


tired with joy

by rhubarbgirl



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, CW for drinking throughout, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Multi, Polyamory, They're all girls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-14 00:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9149056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhubarbgirl/pseuds/rhubarbgirl
Summary: 'Wanna watch But I’m a Cheerleader?' said Aramis, a grin on her face. Porthos gave a delighted laugh.'What's that?' Athos said mildly.'Oh, my little lesbian.' Aramis said, drawing Athos out of the kitchen with an arm across her shoulders. 'We have so much to teach you.'***A UK Uni (College) AU where they’re all girls. There’s socialising, stressing, flirting, drinking, and a conspicuous lack of studying.Individual CWs on chapters where necessary





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Unus Pro Omnibus, Omnes Pro Uno](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1342123) by [cherryfeather](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryfeather/pseuds/cherryfeather). 



> My New's Year resolution this year is 'Be bold' so what better way to start than posting this fic I've been sitting on for a while! This is essentially an ode to both The Musketeers and my love for them, and an ode to my own first year at uni. Couldn't have written it without my partner-in-crime/fandom/pretty much everything, and my favourite author, Espoir. This fic also never would've happened if I hadn't read the masterful Unus Pro Omnibus, Omnes Pro Uno by cherryfeather - give it a read if you haven't! This fic is already completed with 13 chapters and an epilogue. 
> 
> Content warnings for this chapter: mentions of alcohol, smoking, and anxiety

**Term One, 'Welcome Week'**

The September sunshine was a surprise, but one for which Athos was grateful. She'd spent the last two hours staring at the ceiling, lying on the still unmade bed, and the unseasonal weather made it easier to make herself go outside. She crossed her legs at the ankle and fumbled a cigarette and her silver lighter out of the pocket of her leather jacket. With a sigh, she lit one and took a drag, rubbing her thumb over the engraving on the lighter. From the bench she was sat on she could see her room window. She sighed. Athos hadn't expected to feel like this. Finally out from under her parents, away from that house and the ghosts that lurked there, she'd expected to be relieved, maybe even happy about it. But the drive from London up to Manchester had passed by in a blur, and the second she'd pulled into the car park of her new home, an old building called Garrison Hall that looked like it was destined to be a retirement home, this small bubble of panic had risen in her chest and was yet to go away. She'd gone through the motions automatically - collect keys, fill in a form or two, unload car into room. Then she'd just frozen. She knew she should unpack, or go get some food from the supermarket, or something. But she'd lain down on the mattress and that had been it. At least she was outside now. Maybe she'd go to the shops once she'd finished her cigarette. A dutiful little voice in the back of her head told her she should probably text her parents and let them know she'd arrived. Not that they'd spoken to her in the week since they'd left for Paris. Still. It would be the daughterly thing to do. Before she could over think it she fired off a quick text to her dad, a simple 'Made it safely.' and then pocketed her phone.

'Beautiful day, isn't it?' said a voice from in front of her. Athos squinted into the sun to make what she hoped seemed like a friendly nod at the stranger. The girl smiled back, her dark hair shining in the sunlight. 'Do you live here?' said the girl. Athos lifted a hand to block the sun so she could see, and tried not to outwardly sigh. She could've done with just a few minutes more on her own before the inevitable Being Sociable and Making Friends part of her uni journey started. Maybe more than a few minutes.

'Yes, I do.' said Athos. She gestured to her window. 'That room there, actually.' The girl looked where Athos was pointing, and then grinned, taking a seat next to her.

'I'm in the room next door, on the corner.' She said, pointing the same way Athos had. 'We're neighbours!' She knocked her shoulder against Athos' gently. 'I'm Aramis.' She said, sticking out a hand. Athos shook it automatically.

'Athos.' she said, then took a drag of her cigarette before tapping some ash to the ground. The girl, Aramis, smiled again, looked at the cigarette and sat down next to her. She moved her hand, gesturing at the cigarette and before Athos knew what she was doing she let her take it. Aramis blew out the smoke in a steady stream, before catching Athos' eye and smiling a little guiltily, handing the cigarette back.

'Thanks. I don't normally smoke.' She said, conspiratorially, tucking her hands into the pockets of an oversized cardigan, layered on top of what look like three shirts, several scarves and a skirt. 'Only on special occasions. Or if I'm a bit nervous.' She laughed, a pleasant, genuine sound. 'Today counts as both, I suppose.'

'I know the feeling' muttered Athos, dropping the cigarette floor to the concrete and crushing it under her heel. She was also an occasional smoker. The packet in her pocket had lasted her at least a month. Didn't stop her from keeping her lighter on her always.

'How long have you been here?'

'This bench or Garrison Hall?' Athos said. Aramis laughed again.

'Both.' She smiled.

'This bench: ten minutes. Garrison: 2 or 3 hours.' said Athos. 'You?'

'I've only been here an hour. My parents just left. Mum couldn't drive she was crying so much. Then again, Dad was looking a bit misty eyed too.' She said, tearing up herself.

'Are you okay?' Athos said, feeling a touch awkward.

'Oh, I'm fine.' She smiled gratefully. 'Did your parents drop you off too?'

'No. I drove myself. They're in Paris.' Athos wondered whether she shouldn't be telling Aramis the truth, should just be giving her the nice polite answers, but she was just too tired.

'Paris? On holiday?'

'No, we live there.' It was the short answer, at least. 'My father's French.'

'Cool! You're half French? I'm half Spanish!' Aramis said with seemingly genuine glee. 'It's my mother's side though. It's where I get my beautiful dark hair from.' She sounded insincere, and tossed it over her shoulder. Athos found herself really looking at Aramis. She was bundled up in the layers of her clothes, and her soft looking olive skin was heightened by the gentle curve of her face, and at odds with the sharp sparkle in her brown eyes. She was, in a word, beautiful, Athos had to admit. Aramis caught her look and must have misinterpreted, looking suddenly a little unsure.

'Better beautiful hair than this mess.' Athos said, running her fingers through her own. Aramis laughed again, told her not to be silly, and Athos looked over, proud.

'You've got really gorgeous eyes.' Aramis said, still laughing, but Athos felt herself flush uncomfortably. Her distress must have played on her face, and Aramis hurried on changing the subject. 'I need to go to the shop. D'you wanna come with? I don't think it's very far. I'm not sure, I haven't quite got my bearings yet.'

'I'll come. I need to get some food too.'

She let Aramis carry the conversation as they made their way to the shops, round them, and back. Athos absently minded dumped a few ready meals in her trolley, some things she thought she could manage like pasta and noodles, some fruit. Aramis seemed to have every vegetable available in hers, and an alarming number of spices. Athos was listening to Aramis tell her about her family (she was the youngest of three, all girls, and had a frankly exhausting sounding number of cousins) when they wandered into the alcohol aisle. She was grateful when Aramis chucked a two litre bottle of cheap cider into her own basket, so she didn't feel terrible about the two bottles of wine in hers. By the time they'd managed to make their way back to Garrison, Athos knew about her new neighbours' course ('Art History and Spanish - Mum says doing Spanish is cheating, but I think it'll be fun'), her summer ('Waitressing is hell, people can be so rude!'), and her home life ('I miss the home cooking already'). Aramis was either incredibly self-centred or had sensed Athos' reluctance to talk about herself, as she'd pretty much drove the conversation herself. Athos had provided a few answers here and there ('Economics.' 'I had a gap year actually.' 'Just my parents and I.') but she was content to listen to Aramis. She barely noticed she'd reached their flat until Aramis sighed 'Home Sweet Home' and plonked her stuff on the kitchen table. Aramis carried on talking as they unpacked their shopping, Athos claiming a cupboard and fridge shelf for herself.

'Are you coming to the social thingy tonight? It's on the ground floor I think.' Aramis said as they walked back to their rooms.

'Possibly. I'm quite tired from the drive up.' Athos said. She was itching to get back to her room for a bit. It wasn't that she wanted to get away from Aramis particularly, but she hadn't been this social for a while, and wanted to get away before she had the chance to, well, fuck things up. A friend was probably a good idea, and Aramis seemed like a good candidate.

'Have a nap! You're a student, you're allowed to do things like sleep at stupid times now.' Aramis teased. Athos huffed a laugh, and Aramis smiled in a satisfied manner. 'I'll knock for you when I go, and if you wanna come then we can go down there together.'

'All right.' said Athos, turning her key in the lock. Aramis smiled.

'See you later!'

Athos opened the door, closed it, lay down on her bed (still unmade) and sighed. 

A few hours later, there was a knock on her door. She looked at the still unopened suitcase and got up off the bed. She could do that later, she supposed.

She opened the door, and Aramis beamed at her.

Athos wondered when was the last time anyone had seemed so happy to see her.

She wondered when was the last time she'd been vaguely pleased to see someone.

Maybe the Making Friends thing would work out.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos meets Porthos and is a generally awkward bean.

**Term One, Week 1**

Athos woke late on Sunday morning, necked a couple of ibuprofen to quash the threatening hangover headache, and jumped in the shower. Saturday night had started with her drinking with Aramis in her room, but then someone from their flat (who's name Athos hadn't learnt and wasn't sure she ever would) had appeared in Aramis' doorway and cheerily and tipsily told them they were all pre-drinking in the kitchen. Aramis had leapt up without a second thought and practically skipped out the room, bottle of supermarket vodka in hand. Athos had followed after a moment's hesitation.

With a sigh, Athos rubbed at her skin in the shower, trying to wash away the memory of just how awkward she'd felt sat in what was meant to be her kitchen now. She'd just not been in the mood for such a large crowd of people, especially people who were trying so earnestly and exasperatedly to make friends. That's why she'd been glad Aramis had asked if she wanted to have some drinks with her. Cue her disappointment when they'd all started talking about going out. When the time came and everyone managed to drunkenly assemble themselves to leave, Athos had already decided she'd make her excuses and stay in.

'Are you sure?' Aramis had said, eyes almost as wide as her smile.

'I'm sure. Have fun.' Athos had said, letting Aramis give her hand a quick squeeze before she ran off after the others, and Athos went back to her room. She'd not begrudged them all going out, of course not, but she was at that point of drunk where it was easily to become maudlin. Suddenly, she was glad they'd all gone. The past week or so had been exhausting. She'd drank some more until she'd run out of wine, briefly considered going to the corner shop to get more, then fell asleep on top of her bed, fully clothed.

Athos' groan echoed off the tiles in her tiny shower. Well done, Athos. Doing the De la Fères proud. She turned the water to cold, chasing away the last of her hangover and ignoring her guilt.

Having dressed herself in what was probably the last of her clean t-shirts and a most definitely over worn pair of jeans, Athos had a quick look at her to do list. She'd composed it her second day there, a long list of things to do and figure out now she was verging towards total independence for herself. 'Laundry' was on that list, but Athos had enough underwear to last her at least three more days before that became a pressing issue. Her eyes landed on 'Register for GP'. There. She could manage that. Aramis had mentioned something earlier about a doctor's. Athos decided to go ask.

Aramis had insisted she had an 'open door' policy, which stretched to even when her door was closed, and that Athos could 'come bother me whenever, honestly'. That did not stop Athos knocking before she went in, of course. There was an amused 'Come in' and Athos entered.

'Oh.' She said. Sat cross legged on Aramis' bed, wearing a tight blue t-shirt and pyjama shorts that Athos knew were Aramis', was a girl that definitely was not Aramis. Deep brown skin, short curly hair, a wide smile and bemused dark eyes met Athos' confused gaze.

'You're not Aramis.' said the girl.

'Neither are you.' said Athos, flatly. The girl laughed, a loud rumble of a sound that almost startled Athos. She got up from the bed, and oh, Athos hadn't realised quite how big she was from just seeing her folded up on Aramis' bed. Even to Athos' untrained eye and un-exercised body she could guess that this girl was strong, all broad shoulders and long limbs ( _her legs_ ). There was a short red line of a scar that cut across her eyebrow, but her entire expression was warm and friendly.

'Porthos.' She said, reaching out a hand to shake. 'I live upstairs.'

'Athos.' They shook hands, Porthos' warm and strong in comparison to Athos', who'd always been told she had cold hands. 'I live next door.' Porthos grinned at her, like they'd shared a joke. Which Athos supposed they had, but she was still too lost to find the punchline.

'Yeah, Aramis mentioned you. Hope we didn't disturb you last night.' Porthos said with a wink. And there, the penny dropped. And there, Athos felt herself flush with embarrassment, hoped it didn't manifest itself as a blush.

'Not at all.' She said, coolly.

'Good. Aramis just popped to the shops. She'll be back in a minute.'

'It's all right. I'll come back later.' Athos turned to leave.

'Is that a Foo Fighters t-shirt?' Porthos said. Athos hesitated, looked down on the once colourful mess of faded neon faces on her grey top.

'Um, yes.'

'I love Foo Fighters.' Porthos said, sitting back down on the bed casually. 'Have you seen them live then?'

'Yes.' said Athos, taking the hem of her top in her hands and pulling it taut. '2012, in Paris.' Porthos made an impressed whistle.

'How are you finding their new stuff, Sonic Highways?' Porthos said, smiling up at her.

'I haven't listened to it yet.'

'Oh, I'll burn you a copy. It's a bit different. Good different I guess. Bit more classic rock, less underground.'

Athos suddenly found herself having a very easy conversation about one of her favourite bands, and her and Porthos' favourite songs, ('I know it's maybe a cliché answer, but I fucking love The Pretender. It's just- it's just power, y'know?' 'Oh I agree. Although I think These Days is probably my favourite.' 'Ooh, bit different, I like it.'), and the future of American alt rock. Porthos seemed very genuine and easy going, honest and straight forward. She seemed to like what she liked and fuck the rest.

The door swung open, and Athos startled, suddenly guilty that she'd been chatting with Aramis'- well. Aramis' slight surprise at seeing her was quickly followed by a smile.

'Oh, good! You two have met. I knew you'd get on.' Aramis said, shucking her coat off and throwing it onto a pile of clothes in the corner. Athos was about to protest, wrinkled her nose – how could she possibly think that, know that even? - but thought better of it. In the short time that Athos had known Aramis, she'd realised the girl was confident in her dealings with other people, and stubborn to a fault, to the point where sometimes it was best to just go with it. 'I bought us croissants!' She said, jostling the blue plastic bag in her hand.

'I'll leave you to it.' Athos said.

'No, stay!' said Aramis, taking hold of her wrist. Athos gave her a Look and Aramis dropped her wrist, but carried on with the pleading eyes that Athos was becoming well accustomed to. Athos was about to protest, not wanting to hang around in Aramis' bedroom and eat breakfast with the girl she'd brought home last night. Okay, so she'd had a really great conversation with Porthos and found her easy to talk to. But she felt she'd already crossed a line. Breakfast was perhaps a step too far.

'Don't leave on my account.' said Porthos from the bed. She was leaning against the wall, stretching her arms above her head. Something in Athos' chest twitched. 'Besides, I need you to help me persuade Aramis that 'hard edge basement epic' is not a genre of music'.

'Hey!' Aramis said, sitting down on the bed next to Porthos, who immediately drew her arm around her like it belonged there. (And the funny thing was, it looked like it did.) 'It's a thing, all right?' She sounded indignant but the smile was there, clear and sunny. She looked back at Athos, brandishing the plastic bag again. 'Have a croissant. You're a student, you're not meant to turn down free food.' Athos rolled her eyes.

'Fine.' She pulled up Aramis' desk chair to opposite the bed, lightly rested her bare feet on the edge. Aramis looked disgustingly pleased with herself so Athos snatched the bag from Aramis' hands childishly, huffing slightly. Porthos laughed, delighted.

Athos lost an hour and gained a friend.

 

* * *

 

 

**Term One, Week 2**

'Shit, I'm sorry. I'm not very used to cooking for myself.' Athos said. She left out the 'No one ever taught me', thinking it might be a little _too_ pathetic. Aramis grabbed her hand from her and was sticking it under the running cold water of the tap. Athos hissed through her teeth at the relieving sting and Aramis gently shushed her.

'Five minutes in that, at least.' Aramis said.

Porthos was shaking her head fondly, and moved to clean up the saucepan of rice that Athos had somehow managed to knock off the hob and onto her own hand and the floor.

'Don't.' said Athos, unable to move and stop her. 'It's my fault, I'll clean it up.'

'It's not your fault you're posh.' Aramis teased, taking the saucepan off Porthos and dumping it with a clatter next to the sink. Athos flushed, a touch uncomfortable, but said nothing.

'Yeah, if I'd had a personal chef in the house, I'd never have cooked a day in my life.' Porthos laughed. She looked over at Athos, and something in Athos' face must have stopped her. 'Hey, it's okay. No judgement here.' She teased, hands up in a placating gesture. Athos relaxed, smiled slightly.

'Anyway, you know what they say about posh girls.' said Aramis, nudging Porthos with an elbow. Porthos slinked an arm round her shoulders and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

'What's that?' Porthos said.

'Well,' Aramis had a grin to envy a Cheshire Cat. ' _Posh girls have good manners but they go like the clappers cos they never got to hang around with boys at school_.' She said in a sing song voice. Athos rolled her eyes and Porthos laughed in delight.

'What the hell is that?' Porthos said, still laughing.

'Scouting For Girls song.' Aramis grinned. 'And urban myth. All the boys at my college went after the girls from the convent school down the road, said they were really dirty and very eager to impress.' She looked at Athos. 'Well, Athos. Is it true?'

'Who said I'm interested in impressing boys?' she muttered. She froze. She hadn't meant to say it. For a long moment, the only sound she could hear was the rushing of the cold tap and Athos' heartbeat thudding in her ears. She chanced a look at Athos and Porthos.

'You're gay?' said Aramis, with a tilt of her head. Athos hesitated, nodded.

They blinked at her in surprise before both smiling wide.

'Told you!' laughed Porthos, hip checking Aramis. 'You owe me a drink.'

'Damn it!' Aramis muttered, but she was smiling. 'I'm not usually wrong.'

Athos frowned at them both.

'Babe.' said Porthos, seeing her frown. 'Takes one to know one, right?'

Athos shrugged. She hadn't thought about this eventuality. She'd supposed eventually they'd find out she was gay. She just hadn't figured she'd tell them so soon. She'd known, of course, that they wouldn't mind, but she didn't really know how to process their seemingly nonplussed reaction. Aramis’ gentle touch on her arm startled her out of reverie.

'Athos, are we the first people you've told? Like, ever?' she said, gently taking her hand out of the stream of water and looking at it before putting it back under.

'No.' said Athos, then cleared her throat. 'No.' She said, more clearly. 'I had- I had a girlfriend. And my brother knew.'

'Ok. But not many people then? Not your parents?' Aramis said, sitting on the kitchen counter.

'No.'

'How long ago did you break up with your girlfriend?' Porthos said, crossing her arms.

'Just over a year ago.'

'Were you together long?'

'Four years.' Athos' responses were cold, automatic.

'Wow.' Aramis whistled. 'That's a long time.'

'It was.'

'Is she at uni too, now?' Aramis said.

'No. No, she's in prison.' said Athos

Silence but for the cold rush of water.

'Shit, man.' said Porthos.

'Yeah.'

'D'you wanna talk about it?'

'No.'

'Okay.'

There was a long beat. Aramis leaned over and turned the tap off, before wrapping Athos' hand in a damp tea towel.

'Well now I can make you come along to LGBT Society stuff too!' Aramis said cheerily. Porthos laughed and Athos snorted, both glad to relieve the tension. One day she might tell them about Anne, and about Thomas. Not right now. But maybe one day.

'Wanna watch a film?' said Porthos. Athos nodded. The three of them had been spending a fair bit of time together, films and TV shows and cat videos a staple of their shared time. Athos enjoyed it, surprised herself by quickly and easily she'd made friends.

'But I’m a Cheerleader?' said Aramis, a grin on her face. Porthos gave a delighted laugh.

'What's that?' Athos said mildly.

'Oh, my little lesbian.' Aramis said, drawing Athos out of the kitchen with an arm across her shoulders. 'We have so much to teach you.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for your listening pleasure: [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XD1mugKhSWM]()


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos makes a "friend".

**Term One, Week 3**

Athos spied the booth in the Student Union bar reserved for the Economics Students Society and sighed. She dragged herself over to the bar. A large glass of red. That what was she needed first. Shuffling her way into the crowd of a queue, she pulled out her phone, hovering over Aramis' name on Messenger. She'd only gone at her and Porthos' insistence. They'd been settling into watch some shitty film, a really terrible horror of Porthos' choosing. Athos would've rather been with them, lying on Aramis' bed and smiling as Porthos patiently explained to Aramis that, no, it wasn't real, and yes, that was fake blood. With a small shake of her head, she sent Aramis a message.

[Athos, 19:37] I'm surrounded by posh rich wankers. This is awful.

[Aramis, 19:37] …you've been there like two mins??? have you even spoken to anyone yet??

[Athos, 19:38] Shut up. I know what posh rich wankers look like I've spent more than enough time with them.

[Aramis, 19:38] so i'm guessing that's a no on the speaking to anyone front

[Athos, 19:38] This was a terrible idea. I'm coming home.

[Aramis, 19:38] porthos says if you come home in the next twenty mins she's gonna 'kick ur arse to kingdom come and then drag u back to that bar by ur pretty little ears'

[Aramis, 19:38] direct quote

[Athos, 19:39] ...I have pretty ears?

[Aramis added Porthos to the conversation]

[Porthos, 19:39] Not the point and you know it

[Athos, 19:39] Fine. I'm staying an hour then I'm coming home.

[Aramis, 19:39] that's the spirit!!

[Athos, 19:39] But if someone uses 'winter' as a verb then I'm getting the fuck out of here

[Porthos, 19:39] Different worlds, man. Different worlds :P

With a small smirk of satisfaction, Athos pocketed her phone and paid for her wine, flashing her ID at the barman. She made her way over to the group, doing her best to look confident, shoulders back and head held high. The second she'd clocked them, she'd groaned internally. She knew the sort. They'd tell her about the school they went to, tell her the excessive number of A Levels they'd taken and the grades they'd got. All without her asking, of course. She'd be expected to contribute polite answers, but only so that they could tell her something more interesting. An hour. That was all she had to do. Learn some names, find out who was tolerable and who to actively avoid.

She approached the table, spying the one empty stool and catching the eye of the blonde woman sat next to it.

'Is this seat taken?' Athos said.

'No, come join us.' said the woman with a smile. Her hair was piled up in a messy bun, and she was wearing a tangle of silver necklaces that she had her fingers resting on. She said beautiful blue eyes, and Athos felt herself flush a little when she realised the woman was still looking at her as she sat down. 'I'm Ninon.'

'Athos.' She said, taking a quick drink of her wine. Ninon was still looking at her, something curious in her face.

'You were at the FemSoc social.' Ninon said, sipping something clear and fizzy. 'Last Thursday in Vanilla.'

'I was, yes.' Another thing Athos had been cajoled into. She'd enjoyed it actually. There'd been some interesting people there. She hadn't noticed Ninon though. 'I'm sorry, did we meet? I've met a lot of people these past two weeks.' Ninon laughed.

'No, but I spotted you. You're cute, you caught my eye.' She said, lifting one slim shoulder in a graceful shrug. Athos blushed, tried to play it off with a quick smirk and sip of her drink. 'You're a first year then?' Athos nodded. 'How're you finding it?'

'Strange.' said Athos, immediately regretting her bluntness until Ninon laughed again, clear as a bell.

'It is a bizarre thing, isn't it? You'll get used to it.' Ninon said, squeezing Athos' hand sympathetically for a moment, then letting her hands rest on the table. On the inside of her left wrist was a little tattoo of a bird. Ninon saw where she was looking and tilted her wrist so Athos could see it. 'Do you like it? It's just healed.'

'It's very pretty.' said Athos.

'Thank you. It was a 20th birthday present to myself. A wren.' She drew her fingers over the outline and said, in a quiet voice, ' _The caged bird sings with a fearful trill, of things unknown but longed for still_.' 

'Maya Angelou.' said Athos 'How poetic. Are you sure you're an economics student?'

Ninon laughed again, seemed a little surprised by Athos.

'Oh, Athos. There are some romantics to be found amongst the economists.'

'I'm sure.' said Athos with a smirk that Ninon returned.

'Guys.' said Ninon to the rest of the table, without breaking eye contact. 'Meet Athos.'

Before Athos knew it, it was gone nine and she'd caught herself having fun. Some of the econ students were actually okay, particularly the ones Ninon had personally introduced her to. Some of them were terrible, just as she'd suspected, but even then she'd managed to enjoy herself by catching Ninon's eye for significant glances while these people droned on. And Ninon's company was good, too. Athos felt like she'd sufficiently sussed out a good number of first years and been warned about the lecturers (Avoid Richelieu, be grateful if your academic advisor was Treville - hers was.)

In a moment of quiet she glanced down and realised the time, and all of sudden felt a desperate urge to leave, while she was still having a good time and hadn't done anything awful. She made some noises about going home, nodded a goodbye to the people she'd met, and smiled at Ninon as she stood up to leave. She stepped away from the table and realised Ninon was at her elbow.

'It was nice to meet you.' said Athos.

'Yes. Yes, it was.' said Ninon with a smirk, tilting her head. 'Give me your phone.'

'Hmm?' Athos said. Ninon stuck out her hand and raised an eyebrow. Athos did as she was told.

'There.' Ninon said, having added herself on Facebook.

'Thanks.'

'You and I should go for a drink sometime. Just the two of us.' Ninon said. Athos froze. 'If you want, that is.' she said, face a little twisted in confusion. 'Unless...unless I've misread this, and you're not-'

'No, no, I am.' Athos stuttered back into action. 'I am, I'm just, it’s not very-'

'Oh.' said Ninon, nodding in understanding. 'I see.' Her smile was suddenly unbearably kind.

'I'd love to go for a drink. With you.' Athos said, giving her what she hoped was a charming smile.

Athos hailed a taxi and got out her phone, checking her messages and smiling.

[Aramis changed the name of the conversation to 'The Inseparables']

[Aramis, 20:54] duuuude it's been like an hour and ten, u okay?

[Aramis, 21:05] dude

[Aramis, 21:12] dude!! either you've been murdered on the way home or are actually enjoying yourself, please let us know either way

[Porthos, 21:13] if you need us to come walk you home just say

[Athos, 21:22] Sorry. In taxi home now. Got talking to this girl and her friends. Think I might have a date?

[Aramis, 21:22] !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Porthos, 21:22] :D :D :D

[Aramis, 21:23] ATHOS DE LA FERE IF YOU DON'T IMMEDIATELY COME TO MY ROOM THE SECOND YOU GET HOME AND TELL ME EVERYTHING IS2G IDEK WHAT I'LL DO JUST GET HERE ASAP OKAY???

[Athos, 21:23] :)

 

* * *

 

 

'I have something to say, and I'm worried you'll take it personally, which it very much is not, and what I'd like to happen is for you to accept it for what it is and then, if you want, to come back to my place for sex.' Ninon said, in an alarmingly calm and patient voice, as they stood outside the bar they'd met at - a place that oozed cool from inside out, much like Ninon. Athos had tried her best not to be nervous, to just enjoy the evening for what it was, and Ninon's calm presence had made it easy to do just that. The two of them got on well, with fairly similar backgrounds and a fair few common interests. She liked Ninon. She was elegant and smart and easy to be around. But any thought of Ninon becoming something more, something romantic, made her throat close in anxiety. Ninon's words made her stomach lurch.

'Okay.' she said, trying to sound as collected as Ninon.

'In terms of relationships, I'm not interested in anything romantic. I enjoy being single, I'm a busy person and I'm going on a semester abroad in the new year, so starting anything now would be unfair. Like I said, this isn't personal at all. I think you're great and tonight has been fun, but I don't want to lead you on.' she said, looking uncharacteristically unsure for a split second.

Athos laughed at the warm wave of relief she felt.

'Ninon. That's fine. I don't think I'm looking for anything romantic either. Not right now.'

Ninon gave her a warm smile, and brushed her lips against hers, before kissing her more deeply. She drew back, smile now sharp.

'Back to mine then?' Ninon said. She took a step back, letting her choose to follow or go home if she wanted. Athos swallowed, and then she nodded. Ninon slipped a cool hand into hers, and pulled her down the street, into the hazy, rain damp night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Ninon uses the ‘difficult conversation formula’ which I came across in Girl Sex 101 (an excellent excellent book). I love it and I have used it with success. The gist of it is: ‘I have something to tell you – here’s what I’m worried will happen – here’s what I would like to happen – here’s the thing I have to tell you’. Go forth and have ur difficult convos, friends.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New friends meet old friends.

**Term One, Week 4**

[Athos, 20:07] I'm here, where are you?

[Porthos, 20:07] We're like ten mins away Aramis got distracted by a charity shop

[Athos, 20:07] It's 8pm, what charity shops are open?

[Porthos, 20:08] Ones that Aramis persuades to stay open

[Porthos, 20:08] Sorry ones that she persuades to reopen I mean

[Athos, 20:08] Of course.

[Athos, 20:08] I'm sorry I asked

[Athos, 20:08] Just hurry please

Athos pocketed her phone and made her way to the bar. Another Friday night, another FemSoc social in a bar that Aramis made her promise she'd go to. By now she knew a fair few people, Ninon included, but it always seemed easier to chat with people when Porthos and Aramis were by her side. People liked them. That made it easier for Athos to start talking to people in turn.

'Oi! Athos!' A voice called. Athos turned sharply, and from the other side of the bar saw a familiar face framed by large auburn curls frowning at her. 'I bloody knew it.'

Constance, dressed in a pale purple skater dress and denim jacket, elbowed her way across the bar, and stared up at her with a furious expression, eyebrows knitted tightly. Athos was aware of the curious looks they were receiving, the leaning in and whispering that was happening. She wondered what they looked like, 5'4 of pastel dressed fury facing up to a perma-tired looking girl all in black.

'You're here.' She said, hands fisted at her sides.

'I am.' Athos said.

'You didn't reply to my messages.' Constance said. Athos sighed.

'I didn't. I'm sorry.'

Constance was Athos' oldest friend. She'd messaged her over a month ago about meeting up. Athos hadn't been able to bring herself to reply. It'd been three months since they'd last seen each other and a good two months since they'd had a proper conversation, that last one being Athos telling Constance she'd be starting at the same university as her in September. There had been plenty of excitement on Constance's part, exchanged promises of days out and nights in. But something had stopped Athos replying, a small quiet voice in the back of her head not wanting to burden Constance again like she had so many times before. So she ignored it, left it (well, them) unopened.

Constance was still looking unimpressed.

'I am sorry, Constance.' Athos said, quietly, and wondered suddenly if she had unwittingly lost her best friend.

'Oh, c'mere, you idiot.' Constance's face crumpled and she pulled Athos into a fierce hug, arms round her neck and clinging like her life depended on it. She pushed away, tears glistening in her eyes and slapped her arm. 'I was so worried.' She said, pulling her back into her arms, hands digging into Athos. Eyes closed, Athos hugged her back, her face pressed into Constance's mess of curls. If she was being honest with herself, she had missed Constance so much. Constance let her out of her almost crushing embrace, but kept her clutched at an arm's length. She swiped at her eyes.

'So you're okay?' Constance asked.

'Yes, I'm okay.' Athos said, giving her a smile and managing to feel like she wasn't lying. The past few weeks had been weird and overwhelming, but she was okay. Fuck, things had been more than okay a lot of the time. Her course was all right, a bit dull really, but the social stuff, or at least, the stuff with Aramis and Porthos, the nights out, the nights in, the days exploring their new city, and the lazier days – that had been good.

'Really?' Constance was giving her a practiced 'Don't lie to me' face.

'Really.' Athos nodded. Constance smiled, opened her mouth to say something else, but was swiftly interrupted by another shout of 'Athos!'.

This time it was Aramis, striding towards them, Porthos in hand, who was looking somewhere between confused and bemused. And, oh fucking hell, was everyone in the bar looking now?

Constance finally let her go, just in time for Aramis to nearly knock her back a step with her own hug, much to Constance's apparent amusement.

'Sorry we're late!' Aramis said. Porthos cleared her throat pointedly. 'Sorry I made us late. But look!' She let Athos go and pulled a bright blue woolly thing out of her handbag. 'New cardigan! 50p.'

'And that's what, cardigan number thirty-six?' Athos said drily.

'Piss off! Twenty-three.' said Aramis, elbowing Athos.

'My sincerest of apologies for wildly overestimating the number of cardigans you own.'

Porthos laughed.

'Don't join in!' Aramis said, laughing herself. Her friend shrugged.

'You gonna introduce us?' Porthos said, nodding her head towards Constance.

'Oh. Yes, um.' Athos said. 'Constance, this is Aramis and Porthos.' She smiled along as Aramis and Porthos both went in to shake Constance's hand at the same time, but suddenly she found herself nervous. This wasn't exactly something she'd accounted for today.

'And how do you know our Athos?' said Aramis, affecting a terrible impression of a Northern accent that Athos did her best not to wince at. Constance raised an eyebrow.

'We went to school together.' Athos said, trying to regain some degree of control.

Constance and Athos had known each other for eight or so years now, and in all reality, Constance was her only friend from her school days. St Benedict's had been the backdrop for their friendship – a fierce but friendly daughter of a teacher and a mildly standoff-ish, generally irritated girl. Constance was a talented flautist and a loyal friend. She was well liked. Athos was a good student and mildly popular, her status at school mainly elevated by her older brother's popularity. The two of them had been sat next to each other on the first day of Year 7, and Constance had ensured they remained friends ever since. There had been other people, but Constance had been the only constant friend in Athos' life. The only one willing to put up with Athos' shit, she supposed. Or tell her off for it, at least.

Some of Athos' best memories were spending time with Constance – swapping notes (some academic but mostly just chatty), sat on cold park benches and laughing, rolling their eyes at some of the boys in their class. Athos spent as much time as she could round at her friend’s house, enjoying the warm and cosy shelter it offered, a stark contrast to the frosty reception she received at home, ever present even before everything that happened. Constance had a wonderful attic bedroom, painted in a soft pink and covered in cushions and knick-knacks. During their sleepovers they would lie on her bed and leave the blind rolled up, staring up at the mostly starless sky and just talk. Constance talked about her worries about the future, how her mum had been winding her up, the particular boy that she had her eye on that month. Athos talked about her parents, how Athos' disinterest in boys might just be a little bit more than the fact that all the St Benedict's boys were idiots, and eventually, about Anne. They'd lie there, hand in hand in the dark, sharing secrets in low soft voices. They never judged, and they never held it against each other.

Aramis looked delighted, and stepped to stand beside Constance, slipping her arms through hers like they were old friends.

'Oh, that's fab! You can tell us all about her at school then?'

Constance was wearing an expression of barely concealed amusement Athos was very familiar with. She'd never had a good poker face. It had got them into trouble a few times before, including one memorable incident involving a particularly awful boy, a faked love letter and partial nudity, which ended in Athos, stoic and stony faced as always having to pinch her friend under the table to stop her from laughing when they were confronted by the teachers. It didn't work, but they at least only got in trouble for laughing.

'What do you want to know?' said Constance.

'Everything.' said Aramis, drawing Constance (and subsequently Porthos and Aramis) over to an empty table. 'Was she class clown? School heartbreaker? A prankster? Teacher's pet?'

Constance laughed loudly as she sat down.

'Somewhere between the last two.' She said diplomatically. Athos flashed her a grateful look.

'Interesting.' said Aramis with a charming smile. 'Tell me more.'

'Aramis.' Athos groaned. Aramis looked at her, mock innocent, and Athos could've groaned again at how ridiculously adorable she looked even when she was being annoying. 'Let a woman have some secrets.'

'No.' said Aramis. 'Now, c'mon Constance. Spill.' Constance laughed again, gave Athos a quick look that Athos knew meant she liked Aramis, even if she was a little...full on.

'Well, I would, but I think I'd make myself look equally bad.' Constance said. 'Ask me next time I'm drunk.'

'Right.' said Porthos, slamming her hand on the table. 'Shots?'

'Not you as well.' Athos mumbled, not meaning it at all. The others laughed at her.

There was the inevitable initial conversation about where they were all from and what they studied (Aramis got to do her 'Spanish is not cheating' bit, Porthos got that wonderfully endearing passionate look on her face when she spoke about her Politics and International Relations course, and Constance took the impressed looks and song requests that her Music degree entailed very well). Athos took the moment to go get a round of drinks in, grappling with a laden tray back to their table.

'So how do you guys all know each other then, since you're not course mates?' Constance was saying as Athos got back.

'Halls.' said Athos, hoping that was enough of an answer.

'I live next door to her.' said Aramis, with a smile.

'And I live upstairs.' Porthos added.

'I see, I see.' said Constance. Athos, scarily, was quite unable to read whatever passed across Constance's face. 'And how are you finding the whole 'halls' thing?' Porthos groaned, her flat mates were particularly awful, and Aramis helped her tell the story of the Pizza Box Incident, and Constance listened attentively. Athos, as much as she loved the mystery and horror of the story, had heard it before, and took the moment to look round the bar. It was for the most part full of FemSoc members; Athos knew plenty of faces, and was pleased that no one really seemed to be paying attention to the four of them anymore. Well, except Ninon, who caught Athos' eye, gave her that sharp amused smirk of hers and mouthed an 'Okay?'. Athos nodded, raised her glass ever so slightly, and gave a small smile when Ninon did the same. She turned back to the conversation in front of her.

'Who are you making eyes at?' said Aramis with a sly grin.

'No one.' said Athos.

'I'm sorry, was that Ninon?' Aramis said, cupping her hand to her ear.

'Ninon? As in Ninon Larroque?' Constance said, craning her neck to look. Athos elbowed her to not be quite so obvious. 'Are you two?-' Athos sighed.

'We went on _a_ date. We're just friends.' Athos said, then rolled her eyes as Aramis unsubtly mouthed 'Just friends' at Constance, who snorted a laugh. Porthos' foot jostled Athos' under the table, accidentally or not, Athos wasn't sure.

'Any 'just friends' in your life, Constance? Boyfriend, girlfriend, partner type person?' Porthos said. Athos felt her throat tighten and took a big sip of her drink as her friend answered.

'Yes, yes I do, actually.' Constance said. 'Boyfriend. Jacques.' Athos swallowed, hoped her grimace passed off as a reaction to the below average tasting wine and not the name. Athos had met Jacques precisely three times and that was enough to hate him. Honestly, five minutes had been enough. He was petty, arrogant, self-important and _dull_. Constance was a true star of a human being, and Jacques was truly unworthy of her. When Athos had told Constance something similar, her friend had made the point that Athos didn't think anyone was good enough for her. Which was true, but really, Jacques Bonacieux didn't even deserve to say Constance's name. But after that, Athos had never mentioned her feelings on it again. It wasn't as if she had the greatest track record for romantic partners.

 Aramis and Porthos made the appropriate noises, but surely they didn't miss the slightly forced nature of Constance's smile as they asked how long they'd been together, what he did, how they'd met. Porthos changed the subject, latching onto Constance's comment about a music gig and running with it. Athos was grateful and just let the conversation happen around her, suddenly unsurprised by how well they were all getting on. They were all her friends after all. Maybe there was something unique that meant you could get on with a De la Fère, maybe it weirdly bonded you. She startled out of her speculation was she realised all eyes were on her.

'What?' Athos said.

'I said,' Aramis said, with a mock-sigh 'How about we go back to ours and drink there?' Athos agreed, Constance nodded and they made their move to leave.

'Cheaper that way. And then we can get Constance drunk enough to tell us about your naughty school girl antics.' Porthos said with a wink.

It took two double rum and cokes for Constance to spill the story about Athos getting caught kissing a French exchange student in the gym changing room.

It took twenty minutes for Porthos and Aramis to stop laughing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos has a Bad Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CWs for grief, depressive thoughts, and mentions of (a canonical) death

  **Term One, Week 5**

'Athos, please. Just some indication you're alive.' Aramis pleaded from the other side of the door. Athos didn't move. She'd woken up that morning and realised leaving her room definitely wasn't going to happen that day. Today had involved two things - dragging herself to the loo when her body demanded it, and crying. By 6pm she'd cried herself hoarse and was just lying on her bed when Aramis had knocked on her door. She'd said nothing then, but then Aramis had rung her, and heard the buzz of her phone vibrating against her desk. She'd realised Athos was in there, and had been cajoling her for a good few minutes now.

It had taken Athos a while to realise why. It came to her with a shock that she couldn't remember the last time she'd not eaten her dinner with Aramis or Porthos, or at least seen them for a chat. She couldn't remember the last day she'd not seen them. Well.

She heard a murmured conversation on the other side of the door. Porthos had apparently arrived.

'Athos, c'mon man.' Porthos called. 'We know you're in there.'

The thing is, Athos wanted to move. She wanted to call out, let them know she was okay. But she was scared that if she moved she might fall apart.

_Move, move, move,_ said one voice.

_Can't, can't, can't,_ replied another.

'You're scaring me now.' said Aramis, falling just short of levity.

_Move._

'C'mon babe, just open the door.' Porthos said.

_Can't._

There was more murmured conversation.

'Ok fine.' Aramis trilled. 'We’re just gonna sit out here until you come out then.'

And they did. She could hear them chatting, laughing even. And god, _move_ , _move, move, you piece of shit,_ _move_. She didn't know how long it was, was vaguely aware that she'd started crying again, and then Aramis said it.

'Athos.' she said. 'Did we do something wrong?'

Push back the covers. Feet on the floor. Get up. _Move_.

She swayed where she stood for a moment, unused to being upright, and shuffled towards the door. Before the 'can't' voice could come back, she opened the door, wincing into the light. Aramis and Porthos scrambled up from their sentry positions on the floor, either side of her door. She squinted at the two of them, then guessed looking at the floor was her best bet. She most likely looked like a mess who'd been crying all day. Which'd be accurate.

'No, it's not you.' she said, her voice coming out a croaky mess. 'I.' She cleared her throat, puffed up her chest and tried to muster strength she knew she didn't have. 'Today would've been my brother's birthday.' Porthos' hand landed on her shoulder, and she _broke_.

Later, Athos would remember how she ended up in her bed. She would remember Porthos' arms closing round her as she sobbed. She would remember Aramis gently squeezing past her to push the door open and guide them both back into Athos' room. She would remember Porthos sitting on the bed, taking Athos with her and cradling her like a child in her lap. She would remember Porthos shuffling back so her back was to the wall, Aramis sitting next to her and taking her legs into her lap, running a soothing hand up and down the leg of her pyjamas. She would remember them shushing her, comforting her and holding her. She would remember her own words. ' _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry.'_

She woke in her own bed, head on Porthos' lap and her hair being played with. Aramis was saying something from the foot of the bed, and Porthos' voice rumbled through her. She slowly blinked open her eyes, uncomfortably clotted with sleep and dried tears.

'Hey.' said Porthos from above her.

'How long was I asleep?' She murmured, not lifting her head. If she stayed still maybe Porthos would keep playing with her hair like that.

'Not long, twenty minutes maybe. You needed it.' Porthos said quietly.

'I made you some toast.' said Aramis. 'Have you eaten today?'

As if on cue, Athos' stomach made an embarrassingly loud gurgle.

'Taking that as a no.' said Porthos with a small smile. 'C'mon, let's sit you up.'

Athos let Porthos manhandle her into a sitting position, placing pillows behind her back, and Aramis passed her a plate of toast lathered in butter. It looked incredible and Athos took a large bite, only for a crumb to hit the back of her throat. No sooner had she started coughing was a glass of water pressed into her hand. She downed it gratefully. A few bites of toast later and she was slowly coming back to herself, and felt acutely aware of her friends' gaze.

'Please talk about something. Don’t just watch me eat.' She mumbled. That startled something like a laugh out of Aramis. They started up a conversation about Porthos' upcoming cross country trials. Athos focused on the grounding sound of their voices and on eating her toast. With an almost contented sigh, she brushed the crumbs from her fingers and put the plate on her bedside table. Unsurprisingly, the conversation came to a fairly unnatural end as two pairs of eyes landed on her.

She sighed.

'You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.' Aramis said, gripping her ankle gently, foot tucked under Athos' calf.

'But it might help you if you do.' Porthos said, lacing her fingers through Athos' and squeezing just as gently. Athos let her head tip back and hit the wall with a gentle thud. She closed her eyes.

'Thomas. My brother. He- he died. August, last year.'

'I'm sorry.' said Aramis. Porthos' hand tightened round hers. Athos felt herself borrow some of their strength, took a deep breath.

'It's not… It's not an easy story, I-'

'You don't have to tell us if you don't want.' Aramis reminded her. Athos opened her eyes.

'I do want to.' Athos said. 'I just. I barely know how.' She sighed, rearranged herself, and was grateful when Porthos' hand slipped back into hers. 'It was an- No, it-.' She made a noise of frustration. Start at the beginning. Go on. 'You remember I told you there was... a girlfriend, before?' They nodded. 'Her name was Anne. We did everything together. She was incredible and reckless and beautiful and- Of course, I wasn't out to my parents. Thomas knew, he knew about Anne as well. He liked Anne.' Athos ignored the uneasy feeling in her stomach. 'The older we got, the more... intense Anne got. She was always after something new, something more, another high and I could hardly keep up. And then, there was one night, and this one party and I didn't want to go but Anne did, and-' Athos swallowed, remembering that awful argument they'd had, the cruel things Anne had said. '-she took Thomas with her. He had a soft spot for her. A lot of boys did. They went to the party, got incredibly drunk. Anne decided to drive them home. She swerved, skidded on something, I don't know. They never did find out. Thomas' side of the car hit a lamp post. He died instantly.'

Athos stared ahead, unblinking, unseeing.

'Anne nearly died too. It was a near thing, but the paramedics got there just in time, apparently. No one else was hurt. No one else was there. It was 3am. I woke up to the sound of my mother screaming when they told her the news.' She took a heavy breath, felt it shudder through her. The others remained silent, sensing there was more. 'Anne was in a coma for 2 days.' Athos skipped the part where she stayed with her for those days, that it was then that her parents discovered the true nature of their relationship, and that they hated her even more for it. 'She was charged with manslaughter. She got six years on account of her nearly having died too. She's in Holloway Prison. And my brother is buried in the family plot in Paris.'

There was a long heavy silence. Aramis broke it.

'How old would he have been today?'

'21.' Athos smirked mirthlessly. 'The worst part is, I could've stopped it. I could've just gone to the fucking party and I could've stopped her driving. Or maybe at least, it would've been me who died in that car, not Thomas.'

'Babe.' Porthos murmured. Her grip was vice like now.

'I know, I know. I shouldn't talk like that, there's no use, it's just survivor's guilt talking, blah blah.' She waved a hand. 'But it's how I honestly feel. And I can't stop that.'  She didn't want to. She deserved it.

'Oh, _Athos_.' Aramis said, as Porthos brought her into a crushing hug. Aramis scrambled up the bed and joined the hug, awkwardly slotting herself on the edge of the bed. Athos felt tears well up, but fought them back. That was something.

'I'm sorry.' Porthos said.

'It's not your fault.' said Athos, shrug hindered by their embrace.

'Not yours either.' She said. Athos huffed a laugh into her shoulder. After a long moment, they pulled away, but not very far, keeping her tightly sandwiched between them.

'Is that why you had a gap year?' said Aramis. Athos nodded. She'd borne through the necessary 'gap yah' teasing in silence, made the usual mutterings about working and travelling.

'It was too close to the start of term. I just couldn't.'

'Of course.' Porthos said quietly. Aramis was running a soothing hand up and down her arm.

'So what did you do then?' Aramis said,

'Hmm?'

'On your... gap year?'

'Oh.' Athos hesitated. 'I. Well. Nothing.'

'Nothing?' Porthos prompted.

'Nothing.' Athos said. It was the truth. 'My parents moved us back to our Paris house. There were too many people who knew the story in London. At least in Paris people let us pretend he'd not died drunk and at the hands of his sister's girlfriend.' She swallowed thickly, and Porthos squeezed her hand. 'I spent the year there with them, doing very little.' She decided not to tell them about the weeks when she didn't leave her room. How her mother stopped talking to her almost entirely, only speaking to her when absolutely necessary and in front of guests. 'We came back to London for the summer. Acted as if nothing happened. Thomas' death became 'last year's unfortunate incident'.' She felt Porthos and Aramis exchange a look and tried not to sigh. She knew how awful it was. She didn't need telling.

'I wasn't meant to come here, actually.' She said instead. 'I was meant to go to Oxford. My mother and father met there. My father's father went there. Thomas was there.' She sighed. 'I had a place at Pembroke. Same college as Thomas. Didn't seem right. And they wouldn't let me defer. So I came here.'

'I'm glad you did.' Aramis said. Porthos made a grumble. 'No, I mean. I'm not glad that- I mean, I'm glad you came here so we could meet you. Not so that you could, but. Oh.' She made a frustrated noise, and Athos surprised herself with a laugh, a hoarse and genuine sound.

'Stop. I understand.' She said.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean-'

'Aramis. It's fine.' She said. Aramis dropped her head onto Athos' shoulder, her sigh tickling Athos' neck.

'I ruined the moment, I'm sorry, you were telling us something really important and I-' She said, then groaned. Athos placed a tentative hand on her lap, and Aramis grabbed it like a lifeline.

'Hey. We're meant to be comforting Athos, not you, you daft idiot.' Porthos said. smiling. She jostled Athos' shoulder, which moved Aramis in turn. Aramis finally smiled again, laughed at herself.

'I am glad.' said Athos suddenly, quietly. The laughter stopped. 'Not about, about that obviously. But I'm glad I'm here. With you two. Now.'

'I'm glad I am too.' said Aramis.

'Me three.' said Porthos, reaching and wrapping her arms round them both. They hugged for a long while, Athos closing her eyes and soaking in the warmth, until Aramis murmured a 'can't breathe' into her chest, and they broke apart laughing.

'What now then?' said Porthos, not moving her arm from Athos' shoulders.

'Film?' said Aramis, looking at Athos. She nodded.

'Just don't make me choose.' she said. Aramis smiled, slipped off the bed. 'Can we watch it in your room? Only, I have probably been in here long enough today.' Aramis' smile faltered for a second, and Athos hated that she was the cause, but it was bright again soon enough, and she nodded.

They all traipsed into Aramis' room. Athos had already lost count the number of times they'd all watched films in here, some terrible, some tolerable. Sometimes they all sat up, backs against the wall, legs stretched out in front of them, laptop perched on Aramis' desk chair. Sometime Aramis stretched out on her bed and Porthos and Athos sat on the floor. Most of the time Porthos and Aramis would lie on their sides, Porthos' arm cinched round Aramis, heads staggered so they could both see. They always conspicuously left a space for Athos beside Aramis, but she always played oblivious, tucking herself at the other end of the bed and letting them rest their legs in her lap.

Tonight though, Porthos laid on her side as Aramis fussed about with her laptop, and before Athos could even register what was happening, Porthos had reached out, wrapped a hand round Athos' wrist and tugged her onto the bed. She gently shoved her onto her side, fitting her in front of herself, Athos' back to her chest.

'Before you ask, no, you don't get a say.' Porthos said from somewhere behind and above her. Athos chuckled, slipped a hand round the arm Porthos had around her. Aramis eventually flopped down in front of Athos on the bed. Porthos' hand drifted from Athos' waist to Aramis', gently pinching.

'What we watching?' said Porthos.

'Chicken Run.' said Aramis with a hint of glee. Porthos laughed.

'A true cinema classic.'

'I've never seen it.' Athos confessed. Aramis twisted round dramatically and nearly fell off the narrow bed in the process.

'What?! You poor deprived thing.' she said.

'You're in for a treat.' Porthos said, as Aramis settled back down, her hair tickling Athos' chest.

'Can you see?' Aramis said.

'Yes.' Porthos and Athos replied in unison.

Athos managed to stay awake to the bit where Ginger came up with a plan. In all honesty, she wasn't really paying attention to the film, more so to Athos and Porthos either side of her, breathing, laughing, talking quietly. It lulled her into some calm place. She fell asleep with them pressed up against her, the hell that had been her day just about warded off. She stirred slightly when someone turned a light off, but was gently hushed and a blanket drawn over her.

She was sure she dreamed the kiss pressed into her hair, and another on her cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the best fic writers disappear for a week then come back with a Heavy chapter right?? Fluffier things are on the horizon, promise.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on, and it's pretty okay.

**Term One, Week 6 - Reading Week**

[Aramis, 14:37] LINK: [A Photographer Took Pics Of Cats From Underneath To Show Us A Side Of Them Rarely Seen](http://www.buzzfeed.com/javiermoreno/these-photos-of-cats-from-underneath-are-too-cute-for-words)

[Athos, 14:39] You've been home 2 days. Are you really that bored already?

[Aramis, 14:39] cats athos!!!! cats from underneath!!! caaaaaaatttssss

[Athos, 14:39] ?

[Aramis, 14:39] why????? cos cats???

[Athos, 14:40] Not much of a cat person I'm afraid. Or a dog person really

[Porthos, 14:40] You're a terrible lesbian :P

[Athos, 14:40] Never claimed to be anything else

[Porthos, 14:40] True ;)

[Aramis, 14:40] LINK: [27 Cat Pictures Because Life Is Literally Just Terrible](http://www.buzzfeed.com/kaelintully/bobby-flay-is-our-ultimate-cat-daddy)

[Aramis, 14:41] LINK: [18 Times Dogs Didn’t Try To Hide Their Feelings](http://www.buzzfeed.com/elainawahl/18-times-dogs-didnt-try-to-hide-their-feelings)

[Aramis, 14:41] LINK: [26 Of The Most Important Baby Animals Of The Year](http://www.buzzfeed.com/elainawahl/26-of-the-most-important-baby-animals-of-2015#.kmbJD3P7E7)

[Aramis, 14:41] LINK: [21 Cats Who Are Too Adorably Stupid For Their Own Good](http://www.buzzfeed.com/ariellecalderon/cats-who-are-too-adorably-stupid-for-their-own-good#.gt5VDk6gEg)

[Porthos, 14:43] :D

[Porthos, 14:43] Someone gets paid to write these articles

[Porthos, 14:43] Like as a job

[Porthos, 14:43] Unbelievable

[Athos, 14:44] My thoughts exactly

[Aramis, 14:44] [21 Cats Who Are Still Figuring Out This Whole Cat Thing](http://www.buzzfeed.com/chelseamarshall/cats-still-figuring-out-this-whole-cat-thing)

[Aramis, 14:44] number 9 is you, athos

[Porthos, 14:44] Pffft, haha :P

[Athos, 14:45] …

[Athos, 14:45] I'm ignoring you now

[Athos, 14:45] Constance says hello

[Aramis, 14:45] :)) hi constance!! <3

[Porthos, 14:45] Heya girl! :D

[Aramis, 14:45] tell her I'll send her some cute cat pics I'll bet she'll appreciate them

[Athos, 14:46] She says she can't wait

[Athos, 14:46] Now go do some reading

[Aramis, 14:46] fiiiiiiiiiiine

[Aramis, 15:02][ When A Little Girl & A Bulldog Become Best Friends](http://www.buzzfeed.com/beckycatherineharris/when-a-little-girl-a-bulldog-become-best-friends#.nmr9bzKa4a)

 

**Term One, Week 7**

'Truth or dare?' said Aramis. Athos groaned. They had been at a house party, but it wasn't a big crowd and someone Porthos had argued with in one of her seminars was there, glaring at her from across the room, so Aramis had made their excuses and they'd left before Porthos could stride over and start giving him what for. Now sat in her own room, Athos could admit to herself that she had been secretly relieved, much preferring their nights in drinking together, just the three of them. Even when the sleepover games kicked in. Other people were just draining, sometimes. But with Aramis and Porthos, it was always easy.

'Dare.' grinned Porthos.

'Upside down shot!' said Aramis. Porthos laughed and clapped her hands.

'All right then, trouble.' she said, getting to her feet.

'Need me to spot you?' Athos smirked, knowing the answer and pouring a shot of vodka.

'Piss off.' Porthos laughed. Aramis whooped in delight as Porthos easily kicked herself up into a handstand, face flushing a little red. Athos carefully handed Aramis the overly full shot, and she knelt down in front of Porthos.

'Hurry the fuck up.' Porthos grunted.

'Struggling?' said Athos, as Porthos shifted her weight slightly. Porthos tried to glare at her but was blocked by Aramis, approaching with shot in hand. Messily she poured it down Porthos' throat, laughing delightedly as Porthos awkwardly swallowed before making a shout.

'There's vodka in my fucking eye!' she said, falling inelegantly out of her handstand.

Aramis fell about laughing, dropping onto her back and clutching her stomach, great big giggles. Athos gave a snort and grabbed the tissue box from her bedside table, handing it to a grateful Porthos.

'Truth or dare, Athos?' Aramis said once she'd finally collected herself.

'Truth.' said Athos, running a finger up and down her glass. Porthos looked over with a questioning (and damp) eyebrow at Aramis, who seemed to be making a show of thinking about it.

'Do you think you'd still be with Anne, if- if all that hadn't happened?' Aramis said, in a rush.

'Aramis.' Porthos hissed.

'It's fine.' said Athos. She suspected Aramis had been sitting on that for a while. They hadn't really spoken much about it since Thomas' birthday. The others had clearly sensed her embarrassment about that night (a clear signal being her getting up and leaving in the middle of the night when she woke up and found herself between them, warm limbs tangled) and they had not brought it up since.

Porthos was making some sort of signal at Aramis who was suddenly stuttering that Athos didn't have to-

'No.' Athos said.

'What?'

'No, we wouldn't be. Or at least, we shouldn't be. I wasn't enough for her. I tried to be. Made a lot of mistakes trying to be. But I wasn't enough. I was never enough.'

 Anne had burned so brightly. Athos had blinded herself looking at her. She'd let Anne become her entire world, letting her friends, especially Constance, fall by the wayside. She'd run herself ragged trying to impress her, doing stupid things and taking ridiculous risks.

Of course, at the time, it had seemed worth it.

Now, Anne had lost her sheen.

Athos took a drink as the others stared at her. Aramis looked unbearably sad. Porthos' jaw had clenched.

'She was wrong.' said Porthos, quietly, fiercely.

Athos shrugged.

'She was.' said Aramis, those big brown eyes of hers boring right into Athos.

God, their pity was awful.

'Truth or dare, Porthos?' she said, changing the topic. The other two looked at each warily, and Athos knew they'd talk about it later, but they indulged her for now.

'Dare.' she said, managing a smile for Athos.

'I dare you to bench press Aramis.'

Aramis squealed happily.

Porthos managed 5 before she collapsed in a laughing mess on the floor, Aramis going with her and laughing wildly, tears rolling down her cheeks and smudging her mascara.

Athos rolled her eyes at her friends and tried not to be scared by that happy warmth in her chest. It had only been nearly two months and she felt like it had been so much longer. She'd missed them during reading week, when they'd both gone home for a couple of days. She'd kept herself busy with, well, reading, and by spending time with Constance, and catching up with Ninon. But having them both back was nice.

A wheezing Aramis managed to roll off of Porthos and crawled her way back towards Athos. She sat next to her where she was leaning against her bed, arms brushing.

'What are you thinking?' said Aramis.

_That I missed you both last week._

 'That I haven't had enough to drink.' she said. Porthos rumbled her agreement and Athos set them up a line of shots. There. Easy.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Aramis' birthday and the drinks are on Athos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for a teensy bit of club-induced anxiety

**Term One, Week 8**

'Let's go out! C'mon, let's go out.' Aramis wheedled, spinning round to face Aramis and Porthos, sat on the sofa. Their building had a communal lounge, which Aramis occasionally dragged them into. Whenever she did it meant that their drinking session would inevitably turn to going out. Athos had learnt not to mind. She liked watching Aramis dance, liked watching Porthos dance with her, enjoyed the pre-drinks and the inevitable chip shop trip on the way home. She could bear it. She would bear anything for Athos and Porthos, she thought drunkenly.

'Aramis, we are going out. We bought tickets for Ruby Rooms, remember?' Porthos laughed.

'Oh yeah.' said Aramis, snorting a laugh into her drink.

Aramis when drunk was usually one of three things - forgetful, flirty, or touchy-feely. Sometimes all three.

Tonight was a special occasion, Aramis' birthday, and they were dressed for it. Aramis was looking stunning in a little black dress, a denim jacket thrown on top, and Porthos had her best blue jeans and white button up shirt on, rolled to the elbows and tightly fitted across her shoulders. Athos had been cajoled into wearing a black long sleeved crop top that she had stuffed in her drawers, with her favourite ripped jeans. Aramis had insisted she wear it ('It's my birthday!' had been said so many times that day) and Porthos insisted she looked incredible. A few drinks in and Athos didn't really care anymore.

The tiny common room was filled with people, course mates of Aramis', other people from the building, people they knew from LGBT, from FemSoc. Aramis was in social butterfly heaven, tipsily flitting from person to person, filling the room with the sound of her chatter and laughter, taking selfies left right and centre. She moved to talk to Anne and Louis, a couple Porthos had made friends with on her course. Aramis had a little bit of a thing for Anne, Athos could tell, but Anne was far too sweet and devoted to her boyfriend. Athos couldn't stand Louis; thought he was 'a bit of wet flannel' as Constance would say.

She had invited Constance to join them, who'd happily accepted, but Athos had received a text just ten minutes before pre's were due to start to tell her that Jacques had a sudden headache and they couldn't come.

'Prick.' Athos growled at the thought.

'Who?' said Porthos. She was sat on the back of the sofa rather than the sofa proper, her leg pressing against Athos' arm.

'Jacques Bonacieux.'

'Agreed.' She muttered. 'Is Ninon coming?'

'No, she already had plans. She said she might text me later, see where we are.'

'Okay.' said Porthos. Athos appreciated the lack of ribbing she received from Porthos about Ninon. With Aramis, it was a different story. She'd accepted it initially when Athos had explained that they were just going to be friends, but sometimes when she'd had a drink she would needle her about it, calling Ninon her girlfriend and teasing her endlessly. She wondered if Aramis just wanted to pair Athos off, since she and Porthos had been especially close these days. Athos tried to remember when they had started to refer each other as 'girlfriends', if ones with looser boundaries than most. She tried to reason why it bothered her.

'When does she leave for her semester abroad?' said Porthos.

'January.'

'She's going Colorado, right?'

Athos hummed a yes.

Porthos had started playing with Athos' hair, just twisting it in her fingers, and Athos needed a top up, but she didn't want Porthos to stop. Dilemma. But then someone Porthos knew started talking to her about something fitness related, and Porthos stopped. Dilemma solved. Athos sighed and went to refill her drink.

 

* * *

 

The bus into town was inevitably packed with other drunk students, with few seats, so Porthos pulled Athos to the side to hold on to the rails. Aramis had other plans, of course, and wandered to the back of a bus, apparently recognising someone and squealing a name. Athos watched and smiled dozily.

'You all right?' said Porthos, nudging her. Athos swayed with the movement of it.

'Of course I am. Are you?' said Athos, watching Porthos sweep her eyes round the bus, clocking all the people that had followed them.

'Yeah.' said Porthos with a smile. 'Yeah I am. Gonna need another drink when we get there though.'

'I'm buying.' said Athos, resting her head against her own outstretched arm. 'No arguing.' she said, as Porthos opened her mouth to protest. 'And if you buy your own, I'll just buy you one anyway, which means either you'll have to have two drinks, or I'll have to have two.' Athos shrugged, tried to give Porthos her best innocent look, and Porthos laughed.

'Fine, fine.' said Porthos.

Athos smiled happily, then realised her bra strap was dislodged under her shirt. She let go of the bar to put it back in place, which was the exact moment the bus decided to make a jerky stop. She stumbled forward, and Porthos caught her, one strong arm wrapping round her bare midriff.

'Shit, you all right?' said Porthos, half laughing, half worried.

'Yes.' Athos hissed, a little embarrassed. She blushed and grabbed the handle again, shaking Porthos' embrace. She looked up at her friend. Porthos was smiling gently, reached out and brushed some hair back behind her ear. Athos' blush burned brighter.

'Don't.' Athos said quietly.

A roar from the back seat of the bus disrupted the moment, and Porthos dropped her hand quickly, instantly frowning in Aramis' direction. Athos didn't look, suspected she might not want to see, but Porthos just laughed.

'Wait.' she mumbled, peering out the window. 'Next stop. Aramis! Next stop!' Porthos called out.

'What?' shouted Aramis. Athos turned to see Aramis picking her way down the aisle towards them, to the disappointed shouts of the back row.

'Porthossss. Did you miss me? Were you jealous of those boys? Is that why you shouted me?' Aramis said, plastering herself to Porthos' side. Porthos smiled down at her.

'You can kiss anyone you like, you know that.' Porthos murmured happily.

'Mm, but I only _want_ to kiss certain people, you know that.' she said back, stealing a kiss from Porthos. Athos looked away, not wanting to intrude.

'It's our stop.' said Porthos, suddenly, then roared at their group to 'get off the bloody bus, you nutters'. Athos followed, nodding at Porthos to acknowledge her but walking with a girl she recognised from FemSoc to the club. She regretted it immediately, since the girl in question was apparently an idiot, and wearing heels. (Aramis had tried it once. The ensuing drama had been scaring for all three of them.) Athos ended up at the tail end of the group as she tried to help this girl, _Marguerite_ her brain finally supplied, walk. She was unsuccessful. Marguerite stumbled and decided she was going to sit this one out, literally. She sat down on the curb and pouted up at Athos. Athos looked helplessly after the advancing group, just seeing Porthos' laughing face vanish out of sight round a corner. Fuck.

'Athos?' Porthos' Anne appeared behind them, arm linked through Louis'. They took one look at Marguerite grumbling on the floor and sighed in unison. Anne didn't drink and neither did Louis, but they apparently enjoyed a good night out still. Athos suspected Anne liked the whole dressing up and dancing part of it all, and Louis liked to see Anne having a good time. Like her with Aramis and Porthos. Credit to him that he could stand it all without a drink to help him. That was probably more than Athos could’ve managed.

Anne slipped her arm from Louis' and started to help Marguerite up from the floor, batting her hands away from where she was trying to take her heels off.

'We'll see she gets home safely.' said Louis with a smile, clapping Athos on the shoulder. 'You should go catch the others up.'

'No, it's fine, I'll take her-' Athos protested, passing Marguerite her bag from the ground.

'Don’t be silly, it's Aramis' birthday, you should be there.' Anne said, now draped in an unhappy Marguerite. 'Go!'

Athos nodded a thanks and took off down the street, not jogging but walking as fast as she could get away with. The Ruby Rooms were only just round the corner, and as Athos approached she realised Aramis and Porthos were stood outside, hand in hand, Porthos' frowning at her phone. They were looking up and down the street. She waved at them, gave in and jogged over. Aramis beamed and Porthos looked relieved, pocketing her phone. Aramis grabbed her with her free hand and placed a kiss on her cheek.

'We thought you'd run off.' Aramis said, not letting go of her arm.

'It's your birthday.' Athos said by way of reply. Aramis smiled again.

'C'mon.' She said, tugging the two of them backwards into the queue. Porthos smirked as Aramis nearly stumbled, Aramis using Athos and Porthos to stay upright.

'What happened?' Porthos asked Athos. Aramis, reunited with the rest of the group, let go off their hands and was immediately swallowed by the crowd of friends.

'Marguerite. Heels. Anne and Louis are taking her home.' She mumbled, shoving her hands into her jean pockets. She needed another drink, and now. Porthos laughed loudly, throwing her arm round Athos' shoulders and pulling her further down the queue.

 

* * *

 

Athos had no idea what time it was, no idea where most of their group was, and no idea what number drink she was on. She didn't care. She did know that she was enjoying herself, that Aramis was in front of her and Porthos behind her. That was all that was important, really.

The club was still packed, and the press of bodies was warm around Athos, verging on overwhelming, but with her friends by her side she felt safe. When they'd first got inside, Athos had made a dash for the bar, Porthos in tow, while Aramis had instantly found the centre of the dance floor. Well, she was the centre of the dance floor. A ridiculously good dancer and a beautiful girl, all eyes seemed to follow Aramis wherever she went. Athos didn't think she'd stopped dancing since they got there.

The music changed, going from something obnoxiously pop-y to something a little slower. Aramis' hips slowed with the music, their side to side sway almost hypnotic. Aramis caught Athos looking and grinned, reaching out and resting her hands on Athos' hips, making Athos move in sync with her. Athos threw her head back in an attempt to hide her smile, and ended up catching her head on Porthos' shoulder. She felt rather than heard Porthos' laugh, and left her head there, closing her eyes and feeling Porthos' hand slide on top of Aramis’, skimming her bare skin above her jeans. For a while her whole world became the feel of hands on her hips, a body at her back, the loud, heavy beat of the music and the words to go with it.

_This right here, I swear will end too soon._

The song changed and Athos came back to earth with a crash. She opened her eyes and stepped away from her friends, out of their grip but bumping into someone else. The air was too hot, too thick and everything was suddenly too close. She feigned a casual smile at her friends and mimed a cigarette, turning and leaving for the smoking area without a second thought.

She managed to shoulder her way outside, the cool air hitting her in a welcome wave. She jostled her way to the railing, leaned against it and realised she had her lighter but not any cigarettes. Fucking brilliant. If she were Porthos, she’d just ask someone for one. If she were Aramis, someone might offer her one. But she was Athos, and she just stood there with her shoulders hunched, not looking at anyone and flicking her lighter listlessly through her hands.

Just a few moments to herself, to calm down. To ignore the buzz under her skin and the ache in her chest. To flick through her nearly dead phone (god, was it really 3am?) and try not to admonish herself for whatever the fuck that was, because _what the fuck was that._

It was nothing, she decided. It was her brain overreacting, as per.

She turned to go back inside and face the music, when Porthos and Aramis appeared in the doorway. Porthos had her hand in Aramis’ back pocket, and Aramis was suddenly looking tired, leaning into Porthos.

'Home?' said Porthos.

'Yeah.' said Athos.

'Chips?' said Aramis.

'Yeah.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a lil 'un to end your weekend, along with some Katy B if you wanted some more musical references: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6tHw4yIDok


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip into town takes an unexpected turn and a trip home takes Athos to an unexpected place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CWs for homophobia in the first half and depressive thoughts in the second

 

**Term One, Week 9**  

They were on their way into town and had managed to persuade Porthos to let them take the bus rather than make the half hour walk.

('Porthos, it's freezing.' 'You always think it's cold, you Spanish softie.' 'Athos thinks it's cold too!' 'Athos?' 'It is pretty chilly.' 'Fine.')

Aramis needed a few bits in town, wanted to see if she could spend her birthday money, and Porthos and Athos were both avoiding work they had to do, so a group trip it was. They piled onto the back seat of the half empty bus, Aramis giggling childishly and pulling Porthos to sit next to her. Athos sat herself down in the seat facing them and watched as Aramis pulled Porthos' hand into her lap, lacing her gloved fingers with hers. She ignored a disquiet voice in her head and looked out the window at the cold, grey passing outside. She was soon distracted though, lulled into an almost sleepy warmth by the bus' rumbling and Porthos telling a story about her school days antics on the bus. She smiled at her friends as Porthos told the story with great abandon, gesturing wildly but taking Aramis' hand with her. Aramis leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

'I bet you were cute' she said. Porthos balked.

'Oi, less of the 'were'! And I was not, I was a little shit!' she said, laughing and launching into another story.

Out of the corner of her eye, Athos realised they were being watched by a couple of middle aged men to the side of them. She turned to look at them, but they weren't watching her, just staring at Porthos and Aramis. One leaned over to the other and muttered something Athos didn't catch, they looked over at the pair with something near to disgust. Athos felt herself grow cold all over, felt her jaw clench and her shoulders raise. The others hadn't noticed, and she was glad. She watched them watch her friends, until one of them felt her looking and caught her eye. He looked away furtively, and then looked back at Aramis and Porthos with renewed disgust. Porthos had settled her arm across Aramis' shoulders and Aramis was looking up at her with a huge smile on her face. The man opened his mouth, looked like he was going to say something, when Athos beat him to it.

'I'm sorry, can we help you?' She said, in her best loud, cutting, 'I'm being polite but I'm incredibly angry' voice that she'd learnt from her mother. She was dimly aware of people going quiet around her, most noticeably Aramis and Porthos. The man's mouth opened and closed like a fish, and Athos raised an eyebrow. His friend looked equally surprised.

'No? I thought not.' She turned away, saw Aramis and Porthos' twin expressions of confusion and mouthed an assurance at them. The entire back row sat in stony silence, the rest of the bus resuming chatter around them. Athos was grateful theirs was the next stop, and let Aramis and Porthos climb down towards the front of the bus before her, intent on putting herself between them and these men. She gave them a dirty look as she followed her friends. One of them said something that was not very complimentary, just loud enough for her to hear. She turned on her heel, white hot rage spreading across her chest.

'What did you just say? Do you want to repeat that?' She started towards them, but a heavy hand was on her shoulder and pulling her back before she could even realise it. The men gave her sickening look as she turned to Porthos.

'C'mon, babe. They're really not worth it.' She murmured, giving her a gentle look. Athos sighed, an angry rush through her nose. 'Athos.' Porthos gave a little tug and Athos followed, ignoring the curious gaze of the other passengers, ignoring the slight jeer from those men, and desperately ignoring Aramis' worried look as she stepped off the bus.

'Athos! What the hell was that all about?' Aramis said, clutching her hand and trying to get Athos to look her in the eye. Porthos' hand was back on her shoulder, squeezing gently. Athos closed her eyes for a breath second, just let herself come back, to breathe, to calm down, to be grounded by their two hands. She looked down at the pavement.

'They were- The way they were looking at you two. I just. I couldn't stand it, it was awful. I just had to-' She finally looked up at them, saw them frowning at her. Porthos looked angry. She looked away. 'I'm sorry, I don't know, I-'

'Hey, what are you sorry for?!' said Aramis, tugging her hand.

'I shouldn't've-'

'Athos, they were being arseholes, and you were defending us.' Porthos said. Aramis put a gentle gloved finger under Athos' chin, drew her face up to look at her. Her brown eyes were wide and gentle, and Athos nearly lost her breath.

'Thank you.' Aramis said. Athos could only nod.

'C'mere.' Porthos said, pulling Athos into a bear hug. Athos chuckled a little as Aramis piled onto the hug too. 'Jesus, Athos, I thought you were gonna punch that guy's lights out.' Athos said nothing, just smiled into the wool of Porthos' coat. 'C'mon. The sooner we get this shopping done, the sooner we can stop for cake.'

***

'It's monstrous' Athos said.

'It's _vintage_.' Aramis said, stroking a hand down the inside of the aviator jacket. Athos didn't think she's ever seen a coat so bulky in her life. The sheepskin was far thicker than it needs to be, and the denim was patched up in places, but Aramis was looking at it like it was stained glass window. Athos shrugged. She was always cold. A good thick coat would probably be a good idea.

'Go on then.' She said. Aramis looked across at her, snapped out of her reverence. 'Try it on.' Aramis grinned, shoved her bag off her shoulder and passed it to Athos while stuffing her arm into its sleeve. Athos smiled as Aramis' trooped over to the charity shop's mirror. It was a stupidly large coat, but somehow Aramis' pulled it off, carrying herself in a way that made it seem comfy and cosy rather than letting it swamp her. She flicked her dark hair from the collar and smiled at her reflection.

'Oh, I love it.' She said.

Athos was about to tell her how good she made it look when someone beat her to it.

'Looks lovely on you, sweetheart.' The woman behind the till called out to her. Athos realised she was not the only one looking, that Aramis has drawn the warm approving gaze of not only the two members of staff in there but another couple of people looking for second hand bargains. It amazed Athos how she did that. People were just drawn to her, they couldn’t help it, and what's more Aramis welcomed it. She met the eye of the till lady and thanked her.

'You should get it.' said Athos. Aramis looked at her in the mirror, chewed her lip a little. 'You should. You said you wanted to spend your birthday money on something for you, not just food.'

'You're right.' Aramis sighed, running a hand down a denim sleeve. 'But-'

'Aramis. If you don't buy the damn coat, I'll buy it for you.' Athos said seriously. Aramis tried to meet her steely gaze with a matching one but couldn't. She laughed, pulled the price tag off and walked over the counter to buy it. Porthos walked through the door of the shop, having been over the road in another shop, and joined Athos.

'She actually buying something?' she said with a smirk.

'After a little arm twisting, yes.' said Athos. 'Did you get anything?'

'Nah. Some nice running shoes, nice pair of New Balances. In the sale too, but I'm pretty much broke. Think I'd rather eat.' Porthos said, smile not quite reaching her eyes. Athos made a mental note to find out when Porthos' birthday was. She wondered if she could make some excuse and try and get them now, but Aramis bounded over, happily wearing her new purchase and twirling for Porthos. The moment passed and Athos let herself be dragged out the shop and down the road towards their favourite café.

They got home three hours later with heavy stomachs and light hearts.

 

* * *

 

 

**Christmas Holidays**

Athos had forgotten how heavy silence could be.

After the initial flurry of polite conversation, which consisted of exactly 3 questions and one statement from her mother and her father muttering a welcome home, Athos pulled her suitcase up the stairs of their Paris home, and dragged it across the hard wood flooring. When she closed the door behind her, she was hit with the scent of fresh lilies, and a wave of silence. She took a little tour, running her hands across the whitewashed, overpriced furniture, feeling its smoothness. With a sigh, she mechanically unloaded her clothes, and noticed her best dresses (at least, the dresses her mother deemed best), had been moved to the front of the wardrobe. Back to the routine of dressing for dinner and pretending as if it were normal to be able to count the number of words said during an hour long dinner. She hoped her mother hadn't any dinners with friends arranged, knowing she probably did. Athos much preferred the silent and cold family dinners with her parents to the ones with polite company, where they had to pretend they liked each other. Once she'd gone through the motions of unpacking, she sat down on her too soft, too big bed, and looked down at her phone. Two messages in the group chat.

[Aramis, 16:05] hey athos, hope you're journey was good!! :))

[Porthos, 16:11] Yeah man enjoy gay Paris :P

She fired off a quick reply to let them know she'd got there and was immediately met with a 'good good!' and a ':)'. It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

***

She had forgotten what it was like, the physical distancing.

She'd become spoilt by Athos and Porthos and their enviably casual touches. She never initiated anything, not when she was sober at least, and even when she was drunk she only let herself lean further into something, or not move away from a touch after a polite amount of time. They were always exchanging off-hand touches with each other, and with her. A hand on a shoulder, on a waist, a quick hug. A leg pressed against a leg as they watched a film. Nothing spectacular, nothing out of the ordinary. But somehow, sustaining. She missed it. She barely spoke to her parents, and they'd hardly been a tactile family before Thomas' death, so physical contact was limited to the very occasional dry kiss on the cheek in greeting.

 There was an itch under a skin and she realised with a shock she just wanted a hug. The realisation made her bark a laugh into the silent bedroom.

She supposed she could go out, find some stranger in a club. That'd probably soothe the itch in some way. But she didn't want to run the risk of colliding with someone she knew.

Her phone buzzed, jarringly loud against the wood of her bedside table. She rolled over and grabbed it.

[Aramis, 15:37] athossssss, what's the french for 'enough'

[Aramis, 15:37] like if you were shouting it at someone like that's enough

[Athos, 15:38] Ça suffit.

[Aramis, 15:38] cool

[Aramis, 15:38] how d'you say it??

[Aramis, 15:38] oooh send me a voice clip :)

[Athos, 15:39] No.

[Athos, 15:39] 'sa soo-fee'

[Athos, 15:39] Why?

[Aramis, 15:39] just wondering

[Aramis, 15:40] it's basta in spanish

[Aramis, 15:40] mum keeps shouting it

[Athos, 15:40] Ah I see

[Athos, 15:40] Trouble in Casa Herblay?

[Aramis, 15:40] nahh, it's always like this :) loud. lots of people chatting and/or arguing

[Aramis, 15:40] it's nice :))

[Athos, 15:40] I'm sure.

[Porthos, 15:41] :)

[Porthos, 15:41] Miss you guys

[Aramis, 15:41] :D miss you toooooooooo

[Aramis, 15:42] not the same w/o you both <3

Athos felt herself flush warmly, and before she could over think it, tapped open the microphone on her phone, then sent a message.

[Athos, 15:44] Miss you too.

[Athos sent a Voice Clip, 00:02s, 15:44] 'Ça suffit'

She put her phone back down on the side, and tried to take a nap.

***

She had forgotten how bad she could get.

A part of her supposed this had been inevitable. She had managed for so long. Apart from Thomas' birthday, she'd always somehow managed to get herself out of bed. She'd made an effort to go to her lectures, even if the fog was so thick and pressing she couldn't pay attention. She'd gone through the motions on her flat days, on her not-so-great days, and somehow she'd made it through. The routine had helped, as had the constant flow of work and reading for uni. It forced her to keep going.

She'd got complacent, it seemed. The fog had crept back in, a slow tendril snaking round her ankle, slowing her down until she came to a complete stop.

It was 3pm, and she was still in bed.

No one had called on her. Her mother was out that day, and both her parents had engagements for dinner. The household staff had changed entirely since Athos had last left Paris, and none of them knew her. They all seemed a little wary of her, calling her 'Mademoiselle de la Fère' and avoiding eye contact. Athos was used to being uncomfortable around staff, but not in this sense. At least they wouldn't bother her.

She supposed she could revise for her exams in January, but that would involve getting up, and the 'Can't's were back. The tendril curled tighter, and Athos wondered if it would ever let her go again, whether she'd ever go back to university.

_God_ , she was pathetic.

She had forgotten how much she hated herself.

Her phone buzzed.

She ignored it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun (?) fact: first bit I ever wrote of this was the exchange about the coat. Funny how things snowball!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new year and a new term starts, and Athos is very grateful for it.

**Term Two, Week 1**

January and the New Year arrived, and Athos left her family home as soon as was polite. Her father wished luck in her exams. Her mother nodded at her.

She made the long journey back to Manchester in a daze, the thick fog dissipating ever so slightly as the cold air hit her skin, as her key card swiped in the door of Garrison. Her door opened with a creak and her suitcase landed with a thud on her floor.

It felt different this time round, being in this room, in her room. It was better than September, definitely. This space was hers now, and being away from her parents and that house was definitely a relief. She knew she wouldn't be instantly better, but she had a suspicion being back in England and more importantly, away from them, would go some way to helping.

Something was missing, of course. Noise. More specifically, the noise of Aramis and Porthos.

She pottered around for a while, thinking of very little as she unpacked then went to the shops and bought herself supplies. She managed to draw it all out until the late evening, at which point she realised what she'd been oddly avoiding. She opened up 'The Inseparables' group chat, read through an increasingly nonsensical back log of conversation which ended with Aramis declaring that Michelangelo could 'suck her hairy balls'.

[Athos, 20:47] Revision's going well then?

The response was unsurprisingly instantaneous.

[Aramis, 20:47] athos!!!!! it fucking sucks!!!!!

[Aramis, 20:47] and if i have to talk about it i might actually cry!!!!!

[Aramis, 20:47] so let's not!!!!!

[Athos, 20:48] Understood. Don't worry, I haven't even started

[Porthos, 20:48] haha I doubt that :P how are ya athos?

[Athos, 20:48] Fine. Cold

[Athos, 20:48] Garrison is freezing

[Aramis, 20:48] you're back at garrison??

[Athos, 20:49] Yes

[Athos, 20:49] I wanted to get back and get started on work

[Athos, 20:49] When do you two get here?

[Aramis, 20:49] ummmmm thursday!

[Porthos, 20:50] same here :)

[Porthos, 20:50] only three more days then :)

[Aramis, 20:50] three more days until you guys get to see my beautiful face ;)

[Athos, 20:50] I'm positively thrilled

[Aramis, 20:50] rude

[Porthos, 20:50] haha :P

Athos let herself be swept up into a conversation full of gossip and titbits, compliments and well-meant insults until her eyelids started to droop. She signed off, ignoring Aramis' 'noooo' and smiling at Porthos' 'Don't let the bed bugs bite :P', and let herself fall asleep, now warmed in her cold room.

***

Three days of revision passed in a blur of highlighter pens and post-it notes, and Athos was grateful to lose herself in it. It wasn't interesting, and she only had two exams, but Athos' brain switched into a mode that meant she could focus on her extremely dull work, rather than the quiet emptiness of the building. A few of her flatmates were back, but she didn't really pay them any heed. She'd tried to arrange something with Constance, but Jacques was apparently 'very stressed' and Constance had had to cancel.

Athos was so engrossed she hardly registered the knock at her door.

'Come in.' She mumbled around the pen in her mouth, the one in her hand scribbling down numbers. She definitely didn't register that that meant there was someone at her door.

'Athos?' Porthos said, and _oh yeah_ , it was Thursday, and Athos dropped both her pens to spin round in her chair and look at her friend, hair that little bit shorter after a home haircut and smile as bright as ever. 'Hey!'

Athos stood, stepped over a pile of laundry that had appeared on her floor and practically fell into Porthos' waiting arms. Her face was pressed into the soft fabric of Porthos' hoodie and she clung to her friend, trying not to let the realisation that this was the first physical contact she'd had since her aunt kissed her cheek on New Years Eve ruin the moment. Porthos laughed as Athos squeezed her tightly, returning the gesture but then pulling away abruptly and frowning.

'What have they been feeding you?' Porthos said, hands on Athos' ribs. 'Aren't you meant to put on weight over Christmas?' Athos shrugged. De la Fère portion sizes weren't lacking, of course, but it was good manners not to stuff oneself. That and she'd been skipping lunch. Well, forgetting lunch. 'Have you eaten today? No, of course not.' Porthos sighed, but there was a fond look in her eye. 'C'mon, I'll cook.' She drew Athos out of her room with an arm across her shoulders. She sat Athos down in the kitchen and put the kettle on, all the while grumbling away about this guy on her train who'd had his bag on her seat and then given her a filthy look when she'd asked him to move it, and then sat with his legs spread for the whole two hours. Between the warm, low sound of Porthos' voice, her tone weaving between incredulous and annoyed, and the way her friend moved around the kitchen with big gestures and easy familiarity, the space soon seemed less empty. Not quite filled entirely, maybe, but getting there.

'Anyway' Porthos said, plonking down a mug of coffee in front of Athos that she hadn't even asked for, but was grateful for nonetheless. 'How've you been?'

'Fine.' Athos said, clearing her throat and trying to ignore the fact that she hadn't used her voice properly for at least three days. 'Fine. A little bored.'

 Porthos squinted, unconvinced. Was Athos really that transparent? Or did Porthos know her so well already?

'And how was your Christmas?' Porthos asked, carefully.

'Equally fine, equally a little boring.' Athos said, going for evasion rather than some lie or made up anecdote that Porthos would apparently see straight through.

'Hmm. If you say so.' Porthos said from where she was leaning against the kitchen counter with her own mug of tea. Athos smothered a smile as she noticed the contrast before her, Porthos' ripped blue jeans at odds with the bright pink mug declaring its owner 'The Littlest Princess', a secret Santa present from Aramis. Aramis had bent the rules a little, and bought a present for Athos too – a white one with a rainbow coloured heart on and the words 'Better gay than grumpy'. Athos had rolled her eyes when she received it, but she couldn't help but smile whenever she used it.

'What's so funny?' Porthos said.

'You.' said Athos drily, startling a laugh out of Porthos.

'I missed you too, babe.' said Porthos, before turning and starting to prepare them dinner, telling Athos a story about her foster sister Flea and her latest antics. To say Athos was giving her 100% of her attention to Porthos was a lie. She had one eye on the kitchen door, hoping to spy Aramis through the little panel of glass, suddenly anxious to have her back. Not that Porthos wasn't enough, of course not. She was simply looking forward to having Aramis back too. She could sense Porthos felt the same, if her little glances to the door and her phone were anything to go by.

They didn't have to wait long. Aramis, bundled up in her vintage coat, sprang through the door, leaving her suitcase in her wake and stumbling forward. She was grinning, and Athos felt herself smiling back. Aramis looked wildly between Porthos and Athos, unsure who to go for first, but Porthos was closer, already crossing the room and taking Aramis into her arms. A flurry of greetings and kisses were exchanged, and Athos looked down at her hands, tracing the fake wooden grain of the plastic table, and giving them a moment. A hand landed on hers and Aramis pulled her to standing, arms snaking round her in a hug.

'Hello.' said Athos, bemused.

'Hey.' Aramis said, sniffing slightly from where her head was resting on Athos' shoulder.

'Cold or crying?'

'Both.' Aramis said quietly. Athos snorted a laugh and Porthos chuckled, rubbing her hand on Aramis' back. 'Missed you guys.'

'We missed you too.' said Porthos, with a knowing smile. 'C'mon, sit down, you dafty, and tell Athos that story you were telling me about your cousin.'

They said in the kitchen, eating and talking and catching up until 1am, and Athos didn't even care that her back ached from the uncomfortable plastic chairs, didn't care that she had impending exams. Exams couldn't ruin this. Nothing could.

 

* * *

 

 

**Term Two, Week 2**

The fire alarm startled Athos out of a dreamless sleep; she shoved the heels of her hands into her eyes and groaned. With a heavy arm she grasped for her phone. 3:48am. Excellent. She stumbled out of bed, slipping on some shoes and grabbing a shirt from the floor to pull on over her vest top, all the while the fire alarm screaming at her. She shuffled out the room, followed her flatmates down the stairs and out the fire exit. It was chilly. No, it was fucking cold. A few other students from the building had put on their coats and she eyed them endlessly. A lot were in their pyjamas like Athos but some people had clearly only just got in from a night out, still dressed in their clubbing best. Athos glared at them, since it was probably one of them who'd set it off, either forgetting not to smoke inside or making and burning some food as they got in.

She skulked at the edge of the circle, eyes on the ground and arms clutched round her, desperate to be back in bed and trying not to shiver too hard. She heard a deep laugh and looked up, spying Aramis and Porthos. She couldn't tell whether they'd found each other in the crowd or arrived together, from one of their rooms. For a moment she froze, wondering whether she should go over to them. But just as she was telling herself to stop being ridiculous, they were her _friends,_ for God's sake, Porthos spotted her.

'Athos!' She called, and Athos trudged over, shoes rubbing against her bare feet. She grunted a greeting.

'Not a morning person?' Aramis teased.

'It is _not_ morning.' Athos managed. Porthos laughed at her, slung an arm around her shoulders. She was tempted to shrug it off in annoyance but Porthos was warm, a human radiator, and Athos was freezing. Aramis and Porthos chatted above her head while she leaned into the warmth, letting her eyes close and just waiting for the moment they'd say it was safe to go back inside and she could crawl back into bed. She pretty much drifted off standing up, until the sleepy mumbling of the crowd quieted and an old, tired, faintly amused voice cut through the night.

'Listen guys, if you're going to smoke in the basement, don't leave your student ID there, yeah?'

People (Aramis included) laughed and whispered and speculated as they all shuffled back inside. Athos took some comfort in the fact that whoever woke her from the little sleep she got would suffer for it. They made it back inside and Athos was immediately grateful.

Porthos' hand on her shoulder roused her a little.

'Is that my shirt?' She said, a curious expression on her face. Athos had to look down at herself, not sure what she'd pulled on in the dark over the black vest she wore to bed. She saw a familiar red and black plaid and startled. Porthos must’ve left it in her room.

'Shit, sorry.' She said, starting to shrug it off. Porthos didn't move her hand, just squeezed a little.

'Nah, it's okay.' Porthos said, smiling softly. 'Keep it, it looks good on you.' She looked... proud? Athos wished she was better at emotions so she could understand why Porthos was looking at her like that and why it made her blush.

She was way too tired for this shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm moving to Spain this week, so if you're waiting on an update for a while, pls forgive me and take comfort in the image of a disgruntled and sleepy Athos draped in Porthos' shirt <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos has a complex relationship with Valentines Day.

**Term Two, Week 3**

Porthos handed Athos a freshly washed bowl, and she grabbed it with a tea towel.

'I'm going down to London this weekend.' Athos said.

'Huh?' said Aramis, stacking her cleaned pans in her cupboard.

'My parents are in London this week, and they've asked to see me.' she said, as casually as could manage.

'That's nice.' said Porthos, in a vaguely neutral tone. A couple of drunken conversations ago (or 'Deep Meaningful Chats' as Aramis fondly called them), Porthos had made it clear she wasn't a fan of her parents. Athos didn't blame her.

'This weekend?' Aramis seemed a little confused.

'Yes. Is there a problem?'

'No, but. It's Valentine's Day on Saturday.' she stood up, shoved her hands in her cardigan pockets. It was a long soft red affair that Athos had to admit she loved.

'Yes, it is. And I'll be with my parents and you'll be here, with Porthos.' Athos said, raising an eyebrow. 'I assumed you two would have plans.'

'Yeah, we do, but-'

'We do?' chimed Porthos.

'-but you were included too.' Aramis said with a huff. There was a pause as Porthos looked sharply at Aramis, who merely smiled. 'That cocktail place Santi's in town is doing half price pitchers. I thought we could go there for a bit and then come back here and watch a film. Y'know, have a nice night. Together.' Athos blinked. She looked at Porthos, who was still staring at Aramis, eyebrows drawn in a tight line. News to her as well then.

Aramis sighed, gave a big dramatic shrug.

'But I suppose if you've got fancy plans with your fancy parents in that fancy city then...' she trailed off, pouting at Athos. Athos smirked. She was playing her. It was working.

'I'll be back Sunday evening.' she said, folding the tea towel in her hands. 'We can do something then.'

'Promise?'

'I promise.'

'Cool.' Aramis beamed at her. Porthos snorted and turned back to the washing up, pulling the plug. 'Can you pass me that tea towel?' Aramis said. Athos threw it to her. 'Thanks' She rolled it in between her hands and before Porthos turned round, whipped her with it. Porthos didn't even flinch, just rinsed off her hands and pushed her sleeves further up her arms.

'You are in for it now, missy.' she said, tone cold but eyes warm. She rounded on Aramis, who was grinning like a child, and lunged for her. Aramis shrieked in delight, trying to twist out the way but Porthos was, of course, too fast, and caught her round the waist, tickling her. Athos watched on with a smile as Aramis turned in Porthos' grip, giggling like mad. Aramis somehow ended up on the floor, Porthos straddling her. Shaking her head, Athos turned to leave, but before she could make her escape, Aramis had clamped her hand round her ankle.

'And where d'you think you’re going?' Aramis said, near breathless. Porthos reached up and grabbed her by the arm, and even with Athos' good balance she had to give in or crush Porthos, and so she was pulled down into the pile.

'I have things to do!' Athos tried to grumble, which was hard when she was being tickled.

'Babe. Shut up.' said Porthos.

 

* * *

 

 

She hadn't even realised where she was driving until she was halfway there. A voice in her head and just said 'Home.' and she'd driven, not back to her London place like she'd planned but to uni. Shit. She pulled over into the services and made herself breathe for a while before grabbing her phone from the front seat and dialling.

'Constance, it's Athos.'

'What's wrong? Where are you?' she said, and Athos could've laughed; she was so perceptive.

'I'm at a services on the M40. I'm about an hour and a half's drive away. Can I stay the night at yours?'

'Of course you can.' said Constance, sounding brusque but concerned. 'Are you okay? Are you hurt?'

'No, and no.'

'Is this one of those situations where you don't want to tell me what's wrong and I get to imagine all the horrible things that it could be until I eventually wrestle it out of you?'

'Quite possibly.'

Constance sighed.

'Okay. Buzz the doorbell when you get here and I'll let you in.'

'Thank you, Constance.'

'That's okay. Drive safely.'

'I will. Oh, and could you not?' She hesitated.

'Yeah?'

'Don't tell Aramis and Porthos.'

There was a pause and another frustrated sigh.

'Get here soon, you ninny.'

Constance already had two glasses of red poured when she got there. After receiving a bruising hug, Athos sat down at the table and downed her glass, thankful that Constance said nothing, just raised an eyebrow and refilled her glass. Athos took another few grateful sips before setting the glass down. A little Porthos-like voice in her head mumbled a 'Gerron with it'

'I went to visit Anne.' She said flatly.

Constance gawped.

' _Your_ Anne?' she said. Athos nodded. 'Oh, Athos.' She reached across the table, placed her graceful, gentle hand on top of hers. Athos' other hand was stuffed in her pocket, fondling her lighter. 'What happened?'

'They wouldn't let me see her. She's had her visiting privileges for the month revoked.'

'Oh.'

'Mmm.'

Athos had arrived at Holloway at the start of visiting hours, but spent an hour in her car trying to convince herself to go in. The horrendous nausea she'd had the entire drive down followed her into the building, accompanied by a shock of white hot fear as she was ushered into the dank waiting room. She'd filled in some forms, been patted down, and waited half an hour, watching various family members and friends of inmates traipse through, some upset looking, some bored, all wearing a layer of resignation. A grey uniformed, grey haired woman had walked into the waiting room, called 'Miss De la Fère?' and gently informed her that De Winter wasn't allowed visiting privileges for this month, following a violent incident that happened yesterday.

'I'll let her know you came.' said the woman, so very kindly. Athos had barely registered her words, nodding and leaving as fast as her legs could carry her.

She didn't tell Constance all that. Her friend seemed at a loss already, and horribly pitiful. Athos slipped her hand from hers and took another drink.

'How d'you feel about it?' Constance prompted gently.

'I don't know.' Athos said, honestly. 'I don't know whether not seeing her when I'd managed to convince myself to go for the first time is worse than actually seeing her. I don't know.'

'What made you go?'

'It's our anniversary. I felt like I should.'

'Oh, sweetheart.' Constance grabbed her hand again. They sat in silence for a moment, Athos staring at the yellow gingham of Constance's tablecloth, Constance staring at Athos. 'I take it Aramis and Porthos don't know?'

'They know about Anne. And Thomas. But not this visit, no. I didn't want to worry them. Plus, I didn't want to get in their way, it's Valentines today and- Oh, shit.' Athos stood up suddenly, dislodging Constance as her chair squeaked across the floor. 'Constance, I'm sorry, it's _Valentines_ , I'll go-'

'Athos, it's fine, just-' she said patiently.

'No, no, I'll go, you and Jacques must have plans-'

'Athos, sit down.' Less patient now.

'But-'

'There are no plans because there is no me and Jacques.'

Athos sat down with a thud. Now it was her turn to hold her friend's hand.

'Since when?'

'Since this morning. We had a fight about this evening actually. I ended it.' Constance's eyes were suddenly filled with tears, but her voice was strong. 'I had been thinking about it for a while, but... Yeah.' She sighed. Athos squeezed her hand.

'But what about the surprise birthday trip?' Even Athos had to begrudgingly admit Jacques had been a fairly dutiful boyfriend for Constance's birthday, taking her to Edinburgh for the weekend. When Constance had told them, Porthos had raised her eyebrows and Aramis had sighed wistfully, asking Constance for every nauseatingly romantic detail.

'That was my idea. He agreed after his mother called me a 'hussy' over Christmas.' Constance said with a rueful shake of her head. Athos felt a flash of anger, squashed it down.

'How're you feeling about it?' Athos said, echoing her earlier question. Constance noticed and gave her a watery smile.

'Terrible. And relieved. And scared. But okay. But mostly shit.'

Athos let go of her hand, poured them both a little more wine, and raised her glass in a toast.

'To feeling like shit.' She said, mock sincerely. Constance gave a small laugh.

'To feeling like shit!'

They drank.

They drank, and they chatted and they lamented and they put the world to rights. They mourned and they laughed and they sang 'Mr Brightside' at the top of their voices. (Well, Constance did, and Athos watched her friend in drunken delight.)

They took every picture of Jacques in the flat, put them in the sink and burned them with Athos' lighter.

By midnight, they were curled round each other on Constance's bed.

'I'm sorry I've been such a terrible friend.' murmured Athos into the dark. Constance shifted beside her.

'What are you on about?' She admonished. 'Tonight was amazing, best Valentines ever.'

'I didn't even know you were thinking about breaking up with Jacques.' Athos said. 'I didn't know things were that bad.'

'It's okay.'

'It's not.' Athos insisted.

'Well, no, it's not really.' Constance conceded with a sigh. 'But you've had stuff going on, Athos.'

Athos groaned.

'I'm bored of having 'stuff'.' she said. 'I've been leaning on you for too long, Constance.'

'Nonsense. I've helped you and you've helped me. That's what friends do.'

'I feel like you've been helping me more than I have you.'

'Well, maybe. But you can help me now. You've already started.' Constance's hand come to rest lightly on Athos' chest, and Athos held it. 'Don't apologise. I can hear those bloody guilty cogs turning.’ Athos laughed. Constance was too damn good at this feelings business. It was a good job one of them was. Eight years of friendship and Constance had been a rock for Athos. Even through her relationship with Anne, when Athos was all consumed by that girl and her mad, mad world. Through Thomas' death. Through the court case and Anne's sentencing. Through the worst of her depression, even when Athos couldn't bring herself to talk to anyone. Athos resolved to be as good a friend as she had been.

‘Just. Just carry on.' Constance said.

'Carry on doing what?'

'Carry on carrying on.' Constance said. 'I like seeing you better.' Athos laughed drily. 'Don't! You have been better, I can tell. It's not been completely smooth but you've been a little more even, I can see it. I'm glad you've got Athos and Porthos now.' She murmured. Athos' chest tightened a little, the way it did these days when people mentioned her friends.

'Constance, they're- They don't replace you.'

'I know. I should hope not.' Constance said, smirk clear in her voice. 'You know I'm not into girls in that way.' _What?_ Athos shifted, propped herself onto her elbows even though she couldn't see Constance.

'What do you mean?'

It was Constance's turn to be confused.

'Aramis, and Porthos, and you.'

'What about us?'

'Well, aren't you all...?'

'All what?'

'Together?'

Athos gave a snort, ignored the ache in her chest.

'We're just friends. It's Aramis and Porthos who are together. I'm the professional third wheel.' Athos said, and flopped back onto the bed. Constance hesitated then resettled against her shoulder, slipping her hand into Athos'.

'If you say so.' she muttered sleepily after a moment.

Athos didn't let herself ruminate over what her friend had just said. They were both asleep within two minutes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, look how that timing turned out! Complete coincidence, promise you.   
> The move has been made, so thanks for waiting out the delay. You're lovely.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like a bit of procrasti-baking.

**Term 2, Week 4**

 

_Dear Athos,_

_I realise by the time this postcard reaches you we probably will have already messaged each other online, but I couldn't resist an opportunity to participate in that wonderful art of letter writing._

_Colorado is beautiful, in a very strange and particular way. The people are overwhelmingly friendly. I appear to have already been adopted into several groups of friends and their families actually, but don't fear, dear Athos, I am sorting the wheat from the chaff. A comment or two about social equality, the odd reference to a writer who is not Jack Kerouac and we'll soon see who can hack the Larroque lifestyle._

_I'm not especially homesick. I'm glad about that. I miss certain things, of course. Being able to drink tap water. That weird smoky smell in the econ building. My friends- yourself included, of course._

_Is FemSoc falling apart without me? Have you thought about what I said about running for Secretary? They need someone sensible and pragmatic like you. You'd be marvellous at it, I know. I've been nagging Constance about running for Chair. I think it's working._

_I hope Richelieu isn't being too much of an arsehole this semester. Keep your head down and ask Treville for help if you need it. He's a decent man._

_Give Aramis and Porthos my love._

_And remember, dear Athos: '_ _Never fear quarrels, but seek hazardous adventures.'_

_Yours,_

_Ninon x_

 

Aramis hooked her chin over Athos' shoulder, her warm languid arms wrapping round Athos' middle.

'Whatcha reading?' She said in a sing song voice.

'Postcard from Ninon.' Athos said, flipping the postcard to reveal a black and white image of the Colorado River. Aramis made an excited noise, taking it from Athos as she wormed out of her grip to fill the kettle.

'Can I read it?' said Aramis, already doing so.

'Of course.' Athos' chest was a little tight after reading it, but not in an especially sad way. She was happy that her friend seemed to be having a good time, and touched that she'd thought of her still. She watched as Aramis read, her face characteristically expressive - a smile, a frown, a smile again, a snort, and a raised eyebrow.

'What's the quote from?'

'I don't know.' Athos admitted. 'It rings a vague bell. I'll have to look it up.' She went to grab her phone from her jeans pocket, but Aramis' hand on her wrist stopped her.

'Later. Help me bake first?' Aramis said, fluttering her eyelids ever so slightly. Athos narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

'Why? Who did you piss off and subsequently need to bake for?' Athos said. Aramis tried her best to look affronted but couldn't, laughed instead.

'No one! I just-' Aramis stuffed her hands into her hoodie (Porthos' hoodie, Athos realised) pockets. Athos watched, one eyebrow raised. 'Okay fine, I have an essay to do and it's just not going anywhere, and it's so dull; I don't care about the difference between Corinthian column embellishments and Doric and Ionic and whatever the fuck the other one is-'

'Tuscan' Athos supplied, having helped Aramis go over her lecture the week before.

'-fucking Tuscan columns. I just.' She sighed dramatically. 'Just procrasti-bake with me okay?'

Athos shrugged. She had no urgent deadlines.

'Sure.'

'What d'you wanna bake?' said Aramis, ducking down to her cupboard and looking up at Athos with wide, excited eyes. Athos fixed her with another stare. 'Right, yeah, forgot I'm working with a novice.' Aramis said with a grin, straightening and pushing up her sleeves.

'Hey.' said Athos. 'Just... tell me what to do and I'll do it.'

'Perfect.'

Aramis wanted to bake Oreo brownies but the closest thing they had to Oreos were Custard Creams, so they decided against that, and managed to cobble together the ingredients for fairy cakes. They fell into step in the small kitchen, working together, chatting about things and Athos neatly dodging Aramis when she tried to lay a floury hand on her. Three times. She did not, however, manage to avoid the cloud of icing sugar Aramis sent up into the air when pouring it at out, and Athos tried to glare at her through her surprised coughing. Aramis, of course, just laughed at her.

The kitchen door swung noisily open and Porthos barrelled in, dumping her rucksack on the kitchen table.

'Honey, I'm home.' She looked up, clocked Athos. 'Oops, sorry. Honeys, I'm home.' Aramis laughed delightedly, dropped the spoon in the icing they were making and ran to Porthos, who promptly caught Aramis by the waist and spun her round. 'Hello you.'

To give them a moment, Athos looked away just as Porthos bent to kiss Aramis, started stirring the icing again.

'And hello you' said Porthos, giving Athos a tight squeeze of a hug from behind. Athos gave a grunt of a hello and felt a wave of warmth as she turned and saw Porthos smile. 'What's this?' Porthos said, releasing Athos but not moving out of her space, sliding the letter from the kitchen counter.

'Postcard from Ninon.' Athos said, as Aramis slipped herself under Porthos' arm.

'How very... Ninon.' said Porthos with a wry smile. Athos snorted a laugh in agreement.

'I think postcards are so nostalgic.' said Aramis, taking it from Porthos and flipping it round and round in her hands. 'Romantic, even.' She gave a wistful, dramatic sigh. 'Do you ever think we were born in the wrong era?' She said, looking up at Porthos.

'No. I'm a girl, I'm mixed race, and I'm gay as fuck. I'll stay right here, thanks.' said Porthos plainly.

'Fair enough.' said Aramis with a laugh. Athos smiled, turned back to the icing, started to messily spoon it onto the cakes.

'Saw Constance earlier.' said Porthos, reaching for a cupcake only to have her hand batted away by Athos. She glared at Athos, but Athos ignored her.

'How is she?' Athos said.

'Annoyed. Her mum is trying to set her up with one of her friend's sons who's at uni here.'

'Sounds like Carol.'

Aramis joined Athos in icing the cakes, her own icing far neater than Athos', and her arm brushing against her as they worked side by side. Porthos' phone started to ring and she answered it, enthusiastically greeting whoever it was.

'Do you miss her?' said Aramis, almost too quietly for Athos to hear.

'Who?'

'Ninon.'

'Oh. Yes, of course.'

'It's a shame things didn't work out between you two.' Aramis said sincerely. Athos tried to give her a Look, but Aramis wouldn't meet her eye. 'I just think it would be nice for you to, to date someone'. Athos sighed and shook her head, bored of this conversation.

'What'd I miss?' said Porthos, one hand coming to rest on Aramis' back and another unsuccessfully attempting to steal a cake.

'Aramis is mourning my tragic love life.' Athos said.

'Hey! That's not fair.' Aramis pouted, finally looking Athos' way so she could give her a reproachful glare.

'Mmm, cos I mean really, it's your whole life that's tragic.' Porthos said with a smile, resting her chin on Aramis' shoulder. Athos slowly raised an eyebrow and just as slowly raised the spoonful of icing.

'You wouldn't.' said Porthos.

'I would.' said Athos.

She did.

Athos had so much icing in her hair by the end of their fight she had to go for a shower.

'Worth it.' She called over her shoulder as she left her laughing friends to clean the kitchen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting there, folks- this lil bit of fluff precedes the home stretch! Thanks so much for reading, you gorgeous people


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things suddenly go from bad to worse, and Athos is left reeling. 
> 
> CWs for alcohol abuse and some emotional manipulation.

**Term 2, Week 5**

The walls in Garrison Hall were somewhere between too thin to have complete and utter privacy and too thick to hear every word from the next room. Athos could hear Aramis when she sang to herself, and could hear her and Porthos when they were- Well. Just because she could hear them didn't mean she listened. After one memorable night, she made sure she always had a pair of headphones in reach.

It meant that she could hear that they were talking, but not what they were talking about. It made her feel like she was still with them, even when she couldn't be, even when being on her own was definitely for the best, for everyone.

Tonight, she was sat on her bed, pen behind her ear and reading over some delightfully dull economic theory. Porthos had fed her and Aramis earlier, and made Athos promise not to work too hard. Athos had rolled her eyes, promised, and agreed to join the two of them in a couple of hours so they could watch the next episode of Brooklyn Nine Nine. ('I'm Jake, Porthos is Terry, and Athos, you're Rosa.' 'I am _not_ Rosa.' 'Yeah, be real, Aramis. Athos is definitely Captain Holt.') She'd heard the occasional low murmur of chatter come from Aramis' room, that would sometimes reach a laughing crescendo, before they presumably both turned back to their work.

After reading a paragraph on 'ordinary least squares' for the third time, Athos decided maybe she should call it night, and go join her friends. She let the textbook close with a satisfying 'whump' and stretched. Then she realised. She could hear them talking but it wasn't- It wasn't friendly. It sounded like they were arguing. Porthos sounded impatient, frustrated, and Aramis started shouting. Athos stood up from her bed, hand on the wall as if that could help her hear. It sounded like Porthos was trying to reason with Aramis, from the plaintive tone in her voice, but Aramis wasn't having any of it, she just continued shouting.

When Porthos started shouting, Athos ran out of her room.

She didn't even think about knocking, just shoved the door open. Aramis was sitting on her desk, hands in her hair and Porthos was stood in the middle of the room, arms folded and nostrils flaring. They were so busy screaming at each other they didn't even register her coming in the room.

'That's not fair, Porthos, and you fucking know it. You know I-'

'Give me another bloody excuse, Aramis. Go on, I fucking _dare you_ -'

' _What the fuck is going on?_ '  Athos shouted. They both suddenly noticed her and turned to her with wild, mad eyes.

Aramis dropped her head into her hands, shame faced. Athos looked between her two friends, desperate for an explanation. Up to now the biggest falling out they’d had had been the time Aramis had mistakenly washed Porthos' running shirt at too high a temperature and shrunk it, and that had been resolved in less than 2 minutes.

'Porthos?' she said. Porthos looked away, grabbed her bag and shoved her book into it.

'Porthos.' Aramis pleaded. There were tears in her eyes. Porthos said nothing until she'd grabbed her stuff and reached the door.

'Just. Think about what I said, Aramis. Is it really ever gonna be enough?' she said quietly, before hightailing it out the door, letting it swing heavily behind her. As the door sealed shut with a soft click, Aramis sighed, and dropped her head again.

'Aramis, what happened?-' Athos said, taking the steps towards her friend.

'Nothing, it's silly.' Aramis said unconvincingly, not looking up.

'Aramis, please.' she said, reaching out a hand to her shoulder. Aramis flinched away as she touched her, as if burnt, and got up from the desk. Athos watched helplessly as she put some distance between them, wiping at her eyes furiously, mascara smudging pathetically.

'It's nothing, Athos. Please.' She said. Athos stayed still, thought maybe if she waited Aramis would tell her everything. She didn't. Instead, she opened the door and jerked her head.

'Aramis?'

'Just leave me alone!' Aramis shouted, finally looking Athos in the eye, a hurt look on her face.

Athos left. She knew when she wasn't wanted. She was acutely accustomed to the feeling.

* * *

 

They didn’t speak for 3 days.

Athos hadn't even seen Aramis in the kitchen. She'd heard her moving about in her room, but she guessed Aramis was avoiding her, listening for when Athos went to the kitchen or left her room and planning her own movements accordingly. That was fine. Athos knew that game. She'd spent the last six years of her life playing that game at home.

She saw Porthos across campus, and raised her hand to wave, took a step towards her. But Porthos just frowned at her, looked guiltily away and carried on walking. That was fine too.

It was a Thursday evening, and Athos was checking her post. And there amongst the takeaway leaflets and estate agent adverts and notices from the council about registering to vote, was a single, hand written letter. The envelope was pale blue. With a shaking hand she picked it up, brought the letter to her nose. Jasmine. She turned it over carefully in her hands. The back was sealed with tape, and marked with a stamp that read 'HM Prison Holloway.' Heart racing, she opened it.

It was a wonder she made it to her room before she burst into tears.

***

[Athos, 00:04] I'm sorry I'm reallym

[Athos, 00:04] I'm really sorry if I did anything if it was my fault

[Athos, 00:05] I don't know I don’t think it was but it could’ve been I'm so fucking stupid I probably did something and didn't even reliase

[Athos, 00:05] Sorry

[Athos, 00:05] I don't want you guys to be angry with each other its

[Athos, 00:05] It's okay you can be angru at me but not each other you're not meant to be like that you're meant to be together you're porthos and aramis and youre beautiful

[Athos, 00:06] I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know

[Athos, 00:06] I'm so so so fucking sorry

[Aramis, 00:06] Athos, none of this is your fault at all. You have nothing to be sorry for, ok?

[Porthos, 00:07] Babe, we're not angry at you. Are you okay?

[Porthos, 00:07] Where are you?

[Athos, 00:07] It's okay if youre mad I don’t mind I can stay away its fine

[Aramis, 00:07] Athos don't be ridiculous we're not mad at you!!

[Athos, 00:08] You should be

[Aramis, 00:08] Athos

[Aramis calling] [Call declined]

[Porthos, 00:08] Athos, tell us where you are

[Athos, 00:09] I'm fine I don you don’t need to worry

[Porthos, 00:09] Please just tell us where you are so we can see for ourselves

[Athos, 00:09] Fine

[Athos, 00:10] I'm at the fleur de lis that pub I wanted try

[Athos, 00:10] Its nice

[Porthos, 00:10] Is anyone with you?

[Athos, 00:11] No

[Aramis, 00:11] You're on your own??

[Athos, 00:11] Yes

[Aramis, 00:11] Stay put we're coming to get you

[Athos, 00:11] Dpnt

[Porthos, 00:12] Too late

Athos was too drunk to tell whether it took them two minutes or twenty to find her, but they did. She'd chosen a tiny table tucked up in the corner and was slumped into herself when they found her, forehead pressed against the cool of the wall. It was a nice grounding sensation when she felt like she might vibrate out of her skin. Almost as nice as Porthos' strong hand on her shoulder. With a slow turn of her head, she looked up at her friend, frowning down at her, Aramis' concerned face hovering above her shoulder.

'I told you not to come.' she mumbled. Porthos looked unhappy. Athos didn't like that. She took the last sip of her wine instead.

'How much have you had?' Porthos said, taking the glass out of her hand easily. Athos tried not to pout. It was undignified. Instead she gave an inelegant shrug.

'Some at home, few glasses here.'

'How many is a few?' Porthos said. Athos shrugged again, went to lean on the table but her elbow missed, managing to hit her head on the table as she slipped. Aramis made a screech of her name.

'I'm fine.' said Athos.

'Yeah, you look it.' groused Porthos. Aramis was dabbing at her forehead with a napkin from the table.

'I'm fine.' she insisted, attempting to bat Aramis' gentle hand away.

'Athos, you're bleeding.' Aramis said, voice slightly panicky, and Athos did not like that. 'Porthos, call a taxi.'

'Already on it.'

Their words were going above Athos, almost as if she wasn't there. She would've preferred that.

She was suddenly tired, and she just wanted to go home. She let them fuss over the cut on her forehead, let them pull her to standing and then guide her out of the pub. The cold air hit her like a ton of bricks and she felt like she might keel over. She didn't. Just leaned on Aramis as they waited for their taxi to appear. Porthos stood guard, looking down the street for the taxi.

Without warning, Athos walked to the curb, knelt on the ground and threw up in the drain.

A hand was rubbing her back immediately, and another tried to pull back her hair. She pushed the hand in her hair away, suddenly annoyed and sat herself back upright, swiping a shaking hand across her lips. The hand on her back - Porthos' hand - came to her shoulder, and she managed to shove that away too. She probably said something, probably grumpy, but the whole brain-to-mouth things wasn't currently doing her any favours. She stayed seated on the wet ground and stared at her mess slinking down the grate.

'We should take her to A&E' said Aramis in a quiet voice from behind her. 'What if it's concussion?'

'It's not concussion.' Athos mumbled. 'It's the metric shit ton of wine.'

Porthos said something else, but Athos didn't hear. She was throwing up again.

Somehow she ended up in a taxi. Somehow she ended up in her room. Somehow she ended up slumped in her desk chair, sobbing horrendously. Somehow, she ended up in bed.

***

Athos woke, greeted by an immense onslaught of dizziness which gradually faded away after a few moments. Slowly, she opened her eyes, squinted into the dim light of her room. Sat across the room, leaning against her wardrobe and covered in Aramis’ blanket were Porthos and Aramis. Aramis seemed to be asleep, head on Porthos’ shoulder and lips softly parted, but her girlfriend was wide awake and her eyebrows drawn tightly.

‘If you’re going to shout at me, please wait until the ringing in my ears stops first.’ Athos mumbled. Porthos snorted.

'Go back to sleep.’ Porthos said. 'You’ve only been asleep a few hours.’

Athos didn’t think that was right but she didn’t question it. Best not push it. She let sleep pull her back under.

_I'm never fucking drinking again_ was her first thought when she woke again.

_You know that's not true_ was her unhelpful second.

Athos' usual hangovers were a low level of nausea, maybe a headache if she was unlucky. Nothing that couldn't be cured by a liberal application of food, caffeine or ibuprofen.

This was not a usual hangover.

Before she could take full stock of everything she practically leapt out of bed into her bathroom, sticking her head in the toilet and heaving the contents of her stomach. Well, the remnants of the contents, which turned out to be bile. She must've thrown up a fair bit already. After a while, she flushed the loo, and sat on the cool tiles, breathing for a moment. Through the open door she could hear the quiet murmurs of her friends.

Shit. Bits and pieces of the night before came back to her, and her very undignified pick up hit her in an embarrassing wave. Oh, fucking hell. That was it, she'd done it. Most likely ruined her friendship forever by being her pathetic fucking self. It had been only a matter of time. Only a matter of time until they saw Athos for who she really was - _pathetic, worthless, embarrassment_ \- and left her to it. They were probably only sticking around to at least formally end it with her.

With a weary sense of resignation and shaky legs, she left the bathroom. Aramis was perched on her window sill, fluffy blanket around her shoulders and chewing her lip nervously, while Porthos stood, arms folded as she leaned against Athos' desk. They looked across at her when she came back in.

'Surprised you've got anything left in you to throw up.' said Porthos, tone flat. Athos shrugged.

Aramis, surprisingly, said nothing, but pointed to a full glass of water on Athos' bedside table. Athos nodded gratefully and sat down on her bed, sipping it tentatively. The tense silence, the anger radiating from Porthos and the nerves from Aramis was too much to bear, regardless of her hangover. She cleared her throat.

'I know what you're both thinking, so if I may?' Athos said. She wanted to beat them to it.

'Be our guest.' said Porthos, shoulders inching a little higher. Aramis was frowning, her lip chewing incessant. Athos decided to address her own hands, folded in her lap.

'I'm sorry. Last night, that was... That wasn't fair, and it certainly wasn't up to you to come get me. I appreciate you doing so, and I can only apologise. It was-' _Ridiculous, childish, needy, pathetic._ '-a stupid mistake, and I can see why you two don't want to stick around anymore. I'll be fine.' She made an abortive little gesture with her hand, signalling that they could leave or shout at her or whatever, but was met again with silence. She looked at them, saw their matching expressions of confusion.

'Athos, what the fuck?' said Aramis eventually, heartbreakingly softly.

'I?' Athos was at a loss.

'Babe, did you think we- did you think we wouldn't wanna be your friend because of last night?' Porthos was straddling a line somewhere between incredulity and pity and it sent Athos' already spinning head into a tailspin.

'You don't?'

'Of course not, you idiot.' Aramis said, leaping up from her window seat and onto Athos' bed, throwing her arms around her. Athos was engulfed in a fluffy hug, which she gingerly returned. When Aramis released her slightly, (and _God_ , Athos had missed her these past few days, missed them both) Athos saw Porthos was shaking her head, eyebrows still tightly drawn.

'How much of last night do you remember?' Porthos said, unfolding her arms. Athos thought for a moment.

'I remember drinking here,' she said. Porthos kicked Athos' bin on cue. It clinked alarmingly loudly. 'And then I remember making my way to the pub, texting you two, and then you two arriving.' Everything else was patchy- disjointed words and actions that might've been dreams or reality. 'That's it.'

'So you don't remember throwing up in the street?' Porthos said. Athos shook her head, ignoring the hot flush of shame. 'Or hitting your head?'

'Getting a taxi home?' Aramis said. Athos shook her head no again. Aramis and Porthos shared a look.

'What? What did I do?'

'You don't remember getting home?'

'No.' Athos was getting frustrated now. 'The point of getting blackout drunk is that you forget things.'

Porthos got out a small sheet of blue paper from her back pocket.

'Is this what you were trying to forget?' She said quietly.

Athos froze, felt like she might throw up again and not because of last night's wine.

Aramis' hand circled round her wrist, resting lightly.

'When we got in last night, you sat down at your desk and starting crying. You had the letter in your hand. We asked what was wrong and you handed it to us, so we read it. We were worried someone had died.' Aramis said.

'You passed out on your bed before we could finish it.' Porthos said. Her anger was back.

Athos didn't know what to do. She slipped her arm out of Aramis' grip, scrubbed her hand across her face.

'Why didn't you tell us you'd been to see her?' Aramis said, voice near a whisper.

'I don't know.' said Athos. 'I couldn't guess what you'd think, what you'd say. It was just something I had to do. I didn't even see her in the end.' She sighed. She had thought she'd maybe get away with not ever telling them about her attempted visit to Anne. Apparently not.

'Athos. You know all those things she said in that letter aren't true, don't you?' Aramis said, gently prising Athos' hand from her face.

'Aren't they?' said Athos drily.

'Athos, no.'

'I did abandon her, Aramis. I haven't spoken to her properly once since that day. I haven't visited her. I haven't written. I loved her.'

'But, it's not like this is any ordinary break up. She's the reason your brother is _dead_ , for God's sake.' Aramis pleaded.

'Only because I wouldn't go with her! Because I was, and am, spineless and pathetic, just like she said.' Tears were threatening in Athos' eyes now. The words Anne had written in that flowing cursive were burned into her brain. She was right.

'You can't believe that. I know you, we know you-' Aramis said.

'You _think_ you know me, but you don't! Anne was my girlfriend for four fucking years, put up with me day after day, I think she fucking-'

'You are not anything she says, Athos, I won't fucking hear it.' Porthos interjected angrily 'You are not pathetic, you're not worthless, it's not your fault-'

'You're wrong.'

'You are _not_ worthless, and you are worthy of love, Athos.' Porthos roared. 'You've already _fucking found it_!'

Athos looked up into Porthos' thunderous face. There was a long pause, and Porthos sighed, the anger slipping from her face, her shoulders dropping from their defensive hunch.

'I'm sorry-' Porthos started, crossing the room and dropping to her knees in front of Athos and Aramis on the bed.

'No, I'm sorry-' Athos said.

'Shut up a minute.' said Porthos. 'I'm sorry I shouted at you, but it's true, you know? She's wrong about you. All those things she said.' Her nostrils flared angrily again, and she looked away, seeming to try and compose herself.

'She was trying to hurt you, Athos.' Aramis said. 'By telling you those things. Because she knew you'd feel guilty and read it all. But she's wrong.'

'We love you, Athos. You're our friend, and we care about you and we love you.' Porthos said, dark eyes shining with tears, and that was it, Athos was gone, she didn't care that she hated crying in front of them, hated exposing herself like that in front of anyone, she was sobbing again. She pitched forward and Porthos caught her, bringing her into a fierce hug, Aramis joining them on the floor and wrapping her slender arms round them both.

They were her friends, and they loved her. She loved them too.

_Fuck_ Anne. Fuck her and every lie she'd ever fed Athos. Fuck her.

'Thank you.' She managed into Porthos' shoulder. She pulled away, wiped at her own eyes and just caught Porthos' sniff.

'Don't thank us. That's what we're here for.' Aramis said gently.

No one moved for a long while and Athos let everything spin around in her head, latching onto the words 'friends' and 'love' and letting them ground her. She was exhausted by it all.

'We'll leave you alone, let you sleep.' said Aramis, getting to her feet and offering Porthos her hand.

'Have you two?-' Athos said from the floor. _Have you two made up?_ She almost didn't want to say it, didn't want to shatter this weird bittersweet peace that had settled over them. They understood.

'We have.' Porthos said with a small smile. Aramis kissed Porthos' cheek softly, before tugging her out of Athos' room. 'Come find us when you're ready.'

Athos watched them go and crawled back into bed. She stared at the ceiling, and tried to process it all through the haze of her hangover and through her embarrassment. She groaned. Fuck, this was a lot. Anne's letter, her friends. This wasn't what Athos had been expecting from her week.

As she drifted off, she heard a quiet voice, Anne's voice.

_I hope you're rotting, darling, from the inside out. It's what you deserve._

But there was a louder voice. A pair of them.

_You're our friend, and we care about you and we love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much goes without saying but I'll say it nonetheless: Don't drink your feelings like that - talk to people! And, if someone gets a head injury, drunk or otherwise, do the sensible thing and get help if you need it! Stay safe bbz xox


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some Important Conversations to be had, and many feelings to be felt.

**Term 2, Week 6**

It had taken at least 36 hours for Athos to recover from her hangover, and a little bit longer for her damaged pride to heal. Aramis and Porthos had been unrelenting in their refusal to let her apologise, repeated their affirmations, and with a little determination, they had all returned to something like normality. They were back to their routine of eating together, living together, actually talking to each other. To say everything was back to how it was would’ve been a lie. Athos was now secure in the knowledge that her friends loved and supported her, and it changed something. Nothing that she could articulate, but just a feeling between them, like their bond was a little bit stronger now. Like she was a little stronger now.

Of course, university and her course drudged on, her emotional escapades unheeded. She was sat in the library, bored of her reading and bored of glaring at the guy sat four seats away chewing something obnoxiously loudly. She checked her phone, pleased to see a notification telling her she had a message from Porthos.

[Porthos, 15:23] you home?

[Athos, 15:23] No, in the library. Need something?

[Porthos, 15:23] nah, what time you back tho?

[Athos, 15:24] Last lecture is 4-5 so will be home by half past.

[Porthos, 15:24] cool. will have dinner ready for then then :) i’m cooking us pasta bake

[Athos, 15:24] Wonderful

[Porthos, 15:24] enjoy your lecture :P

[Athos, 15:24] I won’t, thank you

[Porthos, 15:24] richelieu?

[Athos, 15:25] Yes.

[Porthos, 15:25] oh dear. well just think of the pastabake to get you thru :P

[Athos, 15:25] Will do

[Porthos, 15:25] :)

***

Athos threw her stuff in her room and made her way to the kitchen; through the open door she could hear Aramis and Porthos talking in low voices. They both looked at her suddenly as she came through the door, Athos just catching a glimpse of a frown on both their faces, swiftly replaced by smiles and friendly greetings. Aramis gave her a quick hug as Porthos served them dinner, pasta bake and peas fit for a king.

‘How was Richelieu?’ said Porthos.

‘I don’t wish to be dramatic,’ said Athos. ‘But I think he might actually be the worst person ever to exist.’ They laughed, and then everyone tucked in.

To her shame, it took a good few minutes for Athos to realise that no one was speaking. She supposed a part of her had just defaulted to De la Fère family dinners, those stony silences such a common feature in Athos’ home life. But not here. Usually everyone would talk about their days or something; Aramis might share some gossip, Porthos might launch into a rant about someone on her course. There would be pauses, yes, comfortable silences. This was distinctly uncomfortable. Athos looked at her friends, saw that Aramis seemed utterly engrossed in the food on her plate, that Porthos was looking into the middle distance with such intensity Athos had to stop herself turning to see what she was looking at.

‘Constance text me, told me she’s definitely running for FemSoc chair.’ Athos said, trying to disturb whatever weirdness had settled around them.

‘Oh, great!’ said Aramis, with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Porthos gave an equally unconvincing smile around a mouthful of pasta. Some bizarre and furtive looks were exchanged between the two of them, and they went back to eating in silence. Athos let it continue for two or three minutes more, then let her cutlery drop to the plate with a clatter. The two of them looked sharply up at her.

‘What’s going on?’ Athos said, tone stern.

‘Nothing’ said Aramis, at the same time as Porthos said ‘Look-‘

They made eye contact, Aramis suddenly nervous looking and biting her lip and Porthos frowning.

‘Well.’ Athos sighed, leaning back in her chair and waiting.

‘Aramis, please.’ Porthos said, pushing her own plate away. ‘C’mon, babe. We agreed.’

Aramis took a shuddering breath, nodded slowly.

‘I know, I know, you’re right, I’m just-‘ Aramis trailed off.

‘I know.’ said Porthos, sympathetically. A beat, another nod. An encouraging smile.

‘Athos, you know when- when Porthos and I had that argument?’ Aramis said, looking right at Aramis with shining eyes.

‘Yes.’

‘Well, we wanted to tell you what we were arguing about.’

‘You really don’t have to-‘ said Athos, part confused, part uncomfortable.

‘No, listen.’ said Aramis, shifting forward in her chair.

'We were arguing because-' Porthos said, taking over. There was a pause, some more silent communication passed between them. Aramis nodded and bit her lip. Porthos sighed and took Aramis' hand, squeezing it tightly. Aramis clung back. 'We were arguing because we felt like- we knew that something was missing from our relationship.'

'That something is you, Athos.' Aramis said, reaching out and placing her other hand on Athos'. Athos blinked. Porthos' other hand landed on her free one, the three of them connected round the table. Athos' heart started beating a million miles a minute.

'I don't understand.' She said, quietly.

Aramis sighed, clearly frustrated.

'We care about you, Athos. We love you. We love you in the same way we love each other. It's that simple.'

 _Simple_? That was the last word Athos would've used. Porthos seemed to sense her thoughts, squeezed her hand reassuringly.

'It's always better when it's the three of us. Don't you think so?' Porthos said.

'We do.' Aramis said quietly.

Athos' froze entirely. She was stuck on their words. This was- _unexpected, confusing, terrifying_ \- this was too much. She jerked back into life, slipped her hands from theirs and stood, her chair scraping horribly against the floor. She looked from Aramis to Porthos, who both stared up at her with worried expressions, their hands exactly where she'd left them, open and waiting.

'I- I need a moment.' She said, and turned and left without looking at them, without hearing them. She didn’t even grab her jacket from her room, just walked out the flat, down the stairs and out the building. She wasn’t even particularly sure where she was going until she paused, realising she was in the unmaintained mess of grass and trees that passed for a park near their halls. She sat down on a bench, pressed her hands into fists and breathed, until she felt slightly less like her heart was going to beat its way out of her chest.

Breathing just about under control, she got up again, too cold without her jacket to sit still, and started to walk round the edge of the park.

Fuck.

She didn’t even know where to start.

She knew they loved her, but she thought-

The implication that they might-

Unless they weren’t saying that, unless Athos had completely misunderstood and overreacted.

Except- except they were. She knew what they had been saying, what they’d been trying to say.

 _Fuck_.

God, she was an idiot. She should’ve stayed just a moment longer, let them talk, tell her what they wanted. But no, she’d run off, terrified of the notion that they would ask her for something she couldn’t give them. Her heart started to pound again, and she grabbed onto the railing of the bridge she was crossing, started down at the slow water flowing underneath in the twilight.

She thought and thought and thought, and tried not to panic.

She cared for them, she loved them, she knew that she did. They were her best friends. But not for one moment had she entertained the idea of her being anything more than their friend. It would’ve felt like she was betraying them _both_. There had been moments, brief fleeting moments were she’d let herself look too long, enjoyed a touch too much, felt something too strong. Athos had always felt a little surge of guilt, pushed it away or blamed it on being drunk. But deep down, she’d carried those moments with her. The flash of Aramis’ gorgeous smile that meant she was up to something, Porthos’ deep and incredible laugh. The answering warmth that would wash over her when she saw them both at the end of a long day.

She could love them. Like they did each other, like they did her, apparently. And if they wanted to- to arrange something, she felt confident they could all work it out.

So why was she still stood, eyes closed and clutching a cold metal railing like it was a lifeline?

' _Y_ _ou’re lucky I love you._ ’ That was what Anne used to say. Never in a kind, teasing manner. Never just an ‘ _I love you’_. Sometimes accompanied with that cruel smile. Sometimes with scathing look. Athos never pushed back. Always let Anne do whatever she wanted, have whatever she wanted. She thought that was love, bending over backwards to make someone happy, giving them your all.

The ever permanent weight of Athos’ lighter suddenly felt much heavier in her back pocket. Athos took it out, tossed it between her hands. Anne had given it to her, had stolen it from a house they’d been in for a party hosted by one of Athos’ particularly rich friends. She ran her fingers over the engraving, one side embossed with an illustration of a forget-me-not, the other with a stranger’s inscription. ‘ _To Olivier, with love.’_

It was the only thing Anne had ever given Athos. She’d taken so much. Athos wasn’t sure how much she had left to give Aramis and Porthos.

But she’d try. For them. And for herself.

Maybe she owed Thomas that much.

She owed _herself_ that much.

She dropped the lighter into the water below her.

With a deep steadying breath, she made the short walk back to the Garrison, and promptly realised she’d left in such a hurry she didn’t have her phone or her key card. Good. She looked up towards her own room, to Aramis’ and saw the light on. She could wait for someone to appear and let her in, but she wanted to get inside and get _whatever it was_ out the way. 

She picked up a small pebble from the base of a tree, walked under Aramis’ window and threw it.

It took three pebble throws for Aramis to open her window.

‘Athos?’ Aramis looked worried, and Porthos appeared over her shoulder, soft light glowing behind them. Athos sighed. Who was she kidding?

‘I don’t have my key card. Let me in?’

‘On it.’ Porthos called, disappearing from sight.

There was a pause as Athos and Aramis just looked at each other, Aramis’ wrapping her arms tightly round herself.

‘So we’re not having a Romeo and Juliet moment then?’ Aramis said, tone falling short of her usual levity.

‘No. Sorry.’ Athos said. ‘Probably for the best. They do both end up dead.’

Athos just about caught the small smile that flickered across Aramis’ face.

‘True.’

 Athos walked round to the door, where Porthos was waiting, eyebrows knit in a tight frown. Porthos started, going for a hug then stopped herself, and Athos’ chest ached.

‘You okay?’ Porthos said, cautiously. Athos nodded, started up the stairs.

‘Sorry. I shouldn’t’ve-‘ Athos said.

‘No, it’s all right, I mean-‘ Porthos replied, from beside her, frown still fixed in place. Athos hated this suddenness awkwardness, and lead the charge to Aramis’ room as quickly as was polite.

Aramis, thankfully, did not hesitate on the hug, and when she pulled back, Athos could see she’d been crying.

‘Athos, I’m so sorry, we- Oh, I was worried.’ She said.

‘I’m sorry too.’

‘Don’t be sorry.’ said Aramis.

‘No, I am, for running off like that. I should’ve stayed. But I needed to think things over.’

There was a heavy silence as Athos’ words sank in. Something hopeful settled on Aramis’ face, and she followed Porthos’ cue as her friend sat down on the bed. Athos took a spot by the window, looking at where she’d been. 

‘And what,’ Porthos said, then cleared her throat, clearly nervous. ‘What do you think?’ Athos sighed, looked at the two of them sat hand in hand, as wonderful and full of love as they’d always been, even when shrouded in worry.

‘I was thinking I should have let you finish.’ Athos said.

‘Huh?’

‘I ran away before you could tell me what you wanted.’

Aramis looked at Porthos, confused.

‘What we wanted?’ Porthos said.

‘If-‘ Athos started, struggling to phrase it even after all her thinking over. ‘Say that the feelings were mutual, that I- that I felt the same way about you two.’ She looked away, suddenly scared of what she might see on their faces. ‘What would we do?’

‘Oh.’ said Aramis, and the sound somehow went right through Athos. She looked at them, saw Aramis’ eyes wide with shock and a burgeoning smile on Porthos’ lips. ‘Well, I don’t suppose much would be different really.’ Aramis seemed suddenly uncertain, like she hadn’t thought this far ahead. ‘Except the three of us would be… a trio?’

‘Girlfriends.’ said Porthos. Aramis nodded.

‘Yeah.’

‘So we’d do all the stuff that that entails.’ Porthos said, with a smile. ‘If you wanted.’

Athos looked at Porthos, looked at Aramis, and tried ignore a wave of happy feelings that was threatening to engulf her. There was more to be said still.

‘Look, if we- if we were to do this, I-.’ Athos sighed, frustrated. She had to get this one last thing said. ‘I can’t promise I’ll always be... a hundred percent for you, I- Sometimes, things are hard for me, for no reason at all and I-‘ She shook her head, looked down at her hands. ‘I’m just not sure I’ll be able to give you everything you want.’

‘She really doesn’t get it, does she?’ Porthos mumbled, just loud enough for her to hear.

‘Athos.’ Aramis had gotten up, crossed the room, and took Athos’ hand in hers. ‘We don’t want anything from you, other than to _be_ with you. And for you to know that we love you.’

‘That’s all.’ said Porthos, sincerely, standing and joining them both. Athos suddenly felt like she could cry, but not from sadness. _Fuck no._ They wanted this. She did too.

Without another hesitation, she took a breath, and nodded, resolute.

‘Okay.’ She said. Aramis bit her lip.

‘Okay?’ Aramis asked, with a tilt of her head. Athos looked to Porthos, who had a curious glint in her eye.

‘Ask me if I feel the same about you two.’ Athos asked, drawing herself up to her full height, her own smile growing at Porthos’ smirk and cockily raised eyebrow.

‘Athos. Babe.’ said Porthos, taking Athos’ other hand, warm and strong. ‘Are those feelings mutual, then? D’you feel the same way about us as we do about you?’

‘Yes.’ Athos said. ‘Yes, they are, and yes, I do.’

Aramis made a noise somewhere between a sob and laugh, squeezed her hand tighter. Athos was suddenly aware of how incredibly _good_ it felt even to hold their hands, to let herself and not feel the need to slink off, to withdraw herself from the situation when all she wanted to do was just _be_ there. And now she could. That wave of happiness crashed around her, and she laughed, and the two of them beamed at her.

‘God, you’re beautiful when you laugh.’ Porthos said. Athos felt herself blush from tip to toe, did her best not to look away, embarrassed.

‘She’s always beautiful.’ Aramis said, and then her hand was on Athos’ cheek, a shy brush of her thumb against her cheek bone, followed by an equally shy brush of her lips against her own. Athos froze for a moment, but only out of surprise, not fear. Aramis looked at her carefully, searchingly, and Athos let her.

‘Too much?’ said Aramis.

‘Not enough.’ said Athos, surging forward and kissing her, dropping Porthos’ hand to hold Aramis by the waist. She was vaguely aware of Porthos’ startled laugh followed by a mumbled expletive as they kissed, Aramis pushing back into her with soft lips and urgent movements. They broke apart after a while, foreheads touching, and Athos marvelled at Aramis’ smile.

‘I think I might actually be the luckiest woman alive.’ said Porthos, quietly from beside them.

‘Wrong.’ said Athos and Aramis at the same time. They laughed, and then Aramis’ hand was on Athos’ shoulder, encouraging her towards Porthos. As if she needed to. Porthos put her hand on her neck, bent her own head down ever so slightly, and kissed Athos like she was the most precious thing in the world. Athos felt like her whole world had tilted on its axis, and then Aramis’ arms came round her waist while she was still kissing Porthos and her whole universe shifted. She barely contained her gasp as Aramis dropped a kiss on her exposed skin where her neck met her shoulders.

‘C’mere you.’ Porthos said, having broke from Athos with a smile, and looking at Aramis behind her. Athos tilted her head and watched them kiss. After so many times of looking away to give them a moment, even though they never asked, she could look, ignore her own stupid self-imposed rules and look. She was part of that moment now.

‘So,’ said Aramis, her voice vibrating through Athos as she spoke. ‘Anyone got any plans for tonight?’ Porthos grinned, her smile turning just a smidge salacious.

‘Well.’ said Athos, drily. ‘I did have a date with my textbooks, but I think I just received a better offer.’ Aramis span her round in her arms to face her, her smile now sharp. Porthos’ hands came to rest on her waist, and as Aramis slowly leaned in to kiss her, Porthos said into her ear

‘I think you just did.’


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little epilogue filled with a lot of love.
> 
> (Thanks so much for reading, you lovely people x )

  **Term Two, Week 9**

It was a Sunday, and appropriately, the sun pushed its way through Aramis’ curtains. Athos stared up at the ceiling and smiled as she felt Porthos’ hand squeeze her waist and Aramis snuffling, the pair of them waking in sync. From somewhere outside, someone shouted to a friend, and there was a rush of noise from a speeding police car, but that all seemed very far away to Athos at that moment. Her world right then was the feel of two warm bodies either side of her, the press of the split between the two mattress that they had shoved together just a touch uncomfortable on her back. Later, they would go and meet Constance for lunch, maybe go for a bit of a walk into town. But everything that mattered right then was right there.

And yet, that didn’t feel scary or overwhelming. It felt right. 

‘What you thinking?’ said Aramis quietly. 

'You know how,’ said Athos. 'When you realise you’re gay or bi or pan or whatever, you look back and think 'That was it, that was a significant moment’.’

'Oh yeah.’ Porthos mumbled into her shoulder. 'There was a neighbour, girl a few years older than me. Used to follow her round like a puppy.’ Aramis made an amused sound, stretched and resettled along the length of Athos, head on her chest. 

'Well, I was thinking,’ said Athos, still watching the late morning light play on Aramis’ ceiling. 'I was thinking about my feelings for you two, and when they started.’

Athos felt Aramis still, and Porthos’ hand did a little twitch against her. 

'Oh?’ said Aramis carefully. Athos lifted a free hand, took a piece of Aramis’ hair in her fingers and twirled it absentmindedly. 

‘First semester, and my first assignment, and I text you to tell you I was finished and you came into my room and presented me with a bar of chocolate and started talking about your day and we sat on my bed and chatted for hours.’ She said, heart racing but words coming so unbearably easily. Aramis said nothing, still, so Athos continued. 'And you, Porthos. The morning after you two met Constance, and you were cooking breakfast, and you got me to chop the mushrooms, and I told you some terrible pun and you laughed so hard you started crying.’ She smiled at the memory. 

'That’s-’ Porthos started, voice wavering. 

‘There’s more.’ Athos said. 'Then I thought harder and it wasn’t those moments. Not really. I couldn’t think of a time where I didn’t want you both. Not in- not in that sense, and not romantically, not then. I suppose I couldn’t let myself think like that. But I wanted to be with you, around you. It’s always been better when I’m around you two. I’m better.’ She added quietly. 'So yeah. It’s always been you two, I guess.’ 

There was a horrendously long pause, and Athos finally looked away from the ceiling, trying and failing to gage their reactions. Then Aramis slowly lifted her head from Athos’ chest, and looked at Porthos incredulously. 

'What the _fuck_?’ She said, breaking into a massive grin. 

'We’ve created a monster.’ said Porthos, propping herself up on an elbow and smiling down at them both. 'A romantic, awful, soppy monster.’ 

'Shut up.’ murmured Athos, her lips twitching in a smile. 

'Never.’ said Porthos, ducking her head and kissing her swiftly. Athos smiled, properly smiled, as Porthos pulled away, only for Aramis to swoop in to steal a kiss too.   
It was true. And it had felt good to say. Which reminded her of something else she wanted to say. She watched them share a quick kiss, gathered some easily found courage.

'I love you.’ She said, looking from Aramis to Porthos. They’d said it to each other long before, and said it to her many times over the past few weeks, and she’d felt it and knew it but this was the first time she’d said it. They both froze, and Athos felt her own heart stop, but then laughed as they both went to kiss her at the same time, faces grazing each other. 

It was true, and it was good, and there was nowhere Athos would rather have been then lying on a lumpy mattress between two women who were bickering about who could kiss her first, who were beautiful, who she loved and who loved her. 

Yeah, this uni thing was working out so far.

 


End file.
